Double Jeopardy
by DesertVixen
Summary: An old mystery from the past comes back to threaten Carson Drew, involving Nancy's mother and her death. Carson turns to the detectives he trusts most - his daughter and the Hardys. F/N, some J/B.
1. Prologue

DOUBLE JEOPARDY

By: desert_vixen

Author's Notes: Okay, for anyone who was wondering when there was actually going to be a fic with a mystery in it – this is it. It's a little darker than the others, and goes back to an event that I think a lot of us have tried a spin on – What happened to Nancy's mother? All canon tells us is that she died – like the queen in Disney's Sleeping Beauty, she doesn't even get a name in the books. So, this is my take on it.

Chronological Note: The previous story, "Meet Me In Chicago", takes place in the middle of June, roughly. This one is set in the beginning of August. The general time frame for the stories is three years after the SuperMysteries, making the characters of legal drinking age.

I'd like to thank my fabulous beta Amy for keeping me from making silly mistakes in the story, and for helping me keep the plot from getting too crazy.

Also, disclaimer: I don't own any of the established ND/HB characters. And I'm in the Army, so suing wouldn't really be worth the money anyway…

---- ---- ----

PROLOGUE

He had not wanted to believe his own eyes. He had fought the urge to crumple the envelope and its contents, or shove it in the shredder and pretend he had never seen it. Instead, they lay on his desk, the letter, the newspaper clipping, and the photo.

The letter had been bad enough, with its reminder that he had failed at what should have been his highest priority, and the threat that it could happen again, just as easily.

The news clipping seemed almost an afterthought, and he wasn't sure why it had been included, unless it was to let him know they'd been keeping an eye on him – which, on the face of things, was completely absurd. He had almost missed it, and would have if Anna Martin had not called and teased him about it. The social section had run a story about the gala to benefit the River Heights hospital, and illustrated it with pictures – including one of him and Helena. There didn't seem to be anything in the article itself, or in the picture that indicated a serious relationship, and Helena was far from being the first woman he'd escorted to a fancy-dress event.

The photo was what disturbed him most. It clearly showed Helena standing on her apartment balcony in a tank top and pajama pants, coffee cup in hand as she looked around her, unaware that someone was watching her.

He had ignored the threat the first time, Carson Drew remembered with a jolt of pain. Rather, he hadn't taken it seriously enough. There had been no photo then, just a letter and a news clipping, showing him and Cecily together at some function. There had been letters that followed, but they all had a copy of that same news clipping.

His wife had paid for his mistake with her life. The police had worked with Carson to provide some protection, but it had not been enough – not even with Fenton Hardy's help. They had still managed to get to her. The police hadn't been able to keep her safe. The people she had trusted to keep her safe had failed.

Now they were back.

Carson took a large manila envelope from his desk drawer, sliding the offensive materials into it, and went to his office safe. When they were safely locked away, he let his secretary know to hold all calls.

He had a few calls to he needed to make himself.

---- ---- ----


	2. Chapter 1

DOUBLE JEOPARDY

By: desert_vixen

Author's Notes: Okay, for anyone who was wondering when there was actually going to be a fic with a mystery in it – this is it. It's a little darker than the others, and goes back to an event that I think a lot of us have tried a spin on – What happened to Nancy's mother? All canon tells us is that she died – like the queen in Disney's Sleeping Beauty, she doesn't even get a name in the books. So, this is my take on it.

Chronological Note: The previous story, "Meet Me In Chicago", takes place in the middle of June, roughly. This one is set in the beginning of August. The general time frame for the stories is three years after the SuperMysteries, making the characters of legal drinking age.

I'd like to thank my fabulous beta Amy for keeping me from making silly mistakes in the story, and for helping me keep the plot from getting too crazy.

Also, disclaimer: I don't own any of the established ND/HB characters. And I'm in the Army, so suing wouldn't really be worth the money anyway…

---- ---- ----

CHAPTER ONE

Joe Hardy paused in the hallway at the bottom of the stairs. He had intended to duck into the office and grab the iPod he had left on his desk, but it sounded like their father was still at work. If he saw Joe, he'd probably come up with something for him to do, regardless of the fact that it was almost ten at night. He could hear the rustling as papers were turned, and then, to his surprise, he heard his mother's voice in the office. The office was business space, and one that his mother rarely had reason to enter.

"Leave it for the night, Fenton, and come to bed." Laura Hardy's voice was soft, but Joe could hear the steel in it. All three of Laura Hardy's men knew that tone, the one that said she was going to have things her way.

There was no response for almost a full minute. In his head, Joe pictured them – his father slouched in his favorite leather office chair, his mother's expression stern. Then there was a long exhalation, and he heard his father say quietly, "I can't just leave it, Laura."

"It can wait until morning." Her voice was still firm, and Joe wondered what it was that his father couldn't leave. He guessed it had to be a case. "You've done everything you can for now."

He heard footsteps in the office, and decided he didn't feel like getting busted for eavesdropping, and slipped up the stairs.

Upstairs, he paused on the landing, then decided to knock on Frank's door. He didn't bother waiting for an actual response, but opened the door a moment later.

"Is it safe to come in?" Joe teased, noting Frank was slouched in his computer chair – a family habit, he thought with a grin. The webcam was on, and he could see Nancy Drew's smiling face on the screen. "Or should I leave you two alone?"

Frank rolled his eyes, and on screen, Nancy laughed. "I should be going anyway," she said. "I offered to pick Bess up after the wedding." She giggled again, obviously seeing Joe's eyes widen. "She's working at it, Joe."

Frank grinned. "Gotcha, little brother." There had never been anything serious between the two of them, but flirting with Bess Marvin was definitely one of Joe's pastimes.

"Payback's coming," Joe growled. He turned his back on his brother and the computer, although not before he saw Nancy move as if to blow Frank a kiss.

"Good night, Frank." Her voice was warm, and for a moment, Joe envied his brother's good fortune. "Night, Joe."

"Night, Nancy." Joe said, not turning around.

"Good night, Nancy. Be careful."

Joe could hear his brother tapping on the keyboard, and gave it another moment before he turned around.

Frank crossed his arms over his chest. "What's up?"

Joe took a seat on the bed. "Something's going on with Dad."

"I know." Frank raised an eyebrow. "He kicked me out of the office three hours ago, like there's somewhere to be on a Thursday night."

"He's got the door open now – or Mom opened it," Joe said thoughtfully. "And there are plenty of places to be on Thursday night."

"Eavesdropping?" Frank asked mildly.

"I was going to go in, and then stopped when I heard them talking. She said it could 'wait until morning'."

"Then I guess we'll find out in the morning," Frank said distractedly. He saw another plan to get some time with Nancy getting bumped aside by work priorities. They'd missed the Fourth of July weekend because he'd been handling something for his father, and now it was already the first week of August.

"I thought you'd be more interested," Joe said, a little annoyed.

"I'm interested – but if Mom put her foot down, there's no way we'll find out tonight."

Joe had to nod in agreement with that. He glanced at his brother's desk, the picture frame catching his eye. "This is new."

The gorgeous redhead who'd been on the computer screen was standing next to his brother in the picture, arms around each other's waist in front of what looked like a zoo exhibit. "Aw, you guys even match." He watched the flush that crept up his brother's neck.

"Nancy finally got the picture printed and sent to me," Frank said as he took it back, set it on the desk.

"Well, I'll leave you and the computer alone," Joe teased. "See you at breakfast."

"Night," Frank said absently, turning to pick up the history book from his desk. Joe looked at the size of the book and winced. He would never understand reading something that heavy for fun.

---- ---- ----


	3. Chapter 2

DOUBLE JEOPARDY

By: desert_vixen

Author's Notes: Okay, for anyone who was wondering when there was actually going to be a fic with a mystery in it – this is it. It's a little darker than the others, and goes back to an event that I think a lot of us have tried a spin on – What happened to Nancy's mother? All canon tells us is that she died – like the queen in Disney's Sleeping Beauty, she doesn't even get a name in the books. So, this is my take on it.

Chronological Note: The previous story, "Meet Me In Chicago", takes place in the middle of June, roughly. This one is set in the beginning of August. The general time frame for the stories is three years after the SuperMysteries, making the characters of legal drinking age.

I'd like to thank my fabulous beta Amy for keeping me from making silly mistakes in the story, and for helping me keep the plot from getting too crazy.

Also, disclaimer: I don't own any of the established ND/HB characters. And I'm in the Army, so suing wouldn't really be worth the money anyway…

Authorial Mea Culpa: My apologies for the confusion on postings - one of my kind reviewers alerted me to a mistake (leftover beta note), and then I picked the most inefficient way possible to fix the problem. No new material added on 5 March 2009, although I have hopes for the weekend. Thanks for the reviews so far ! - DV

---- ---- ----

CHAPTER TWO

Breakfast was a little strained the next morning. Their mother seemed cheerful enough, but while Fenton might have gone to bed, Frank thought he looked as if he hadn't slept well at all. Even if Joe hadn't overheard the conversation he had, it would have been evident that something was going on. It was almost a relief when Fenton directed his sons to the office.

"Laura?" Fenton looked at his wife, who had followed them into the room. "Are you sure you want to be here for this?"

She looked at him, her gaze level. "I'm as much a part of it as you are, Fenton."

Their sons watched the silent communication between the two of them, and finally Fenton nodded.

"Carson Drew called me yesterday," he said slowly. "How much do the two of you know about Nancy's mother?"

The brothers looked at each other, surprise on both faces.

"Just…she died when Nancy was little," Frank replied after a moment. "We've never talked about it much."

Fenton nodded, and sat at his desk, unlocking one of the drawers. He withdrew a battered looking folder and laid it on the desk. "Almost 18 years ago," he began, "Carson's wife Cecily was kidnapped. There had been threatening letters for about a month before. To the best of our knowledge, she was grabbed in a parking garage, but something went wrong. There was a car accident, and she was killed."

Fenton removed a photograph from the folder. Frank took it, studying it dispassionately. The accident scene was not as bad as some he'd seen, but bad enough. His eyes went immediately to the passenger side of the car, where he could see a woman's slumped form. Her reddish blonde hair – the only real distinct feature about her in the picture – was very familiar. It made him feel a little cold inside. Joe stood next to him, studying the photograph as well.

"The driver was also killed in the crash, but the Chicago PD identified him as a small-time hood, Mark Simonovich. Based on their records, he wasn't the type of guy to stalk someone – not a guy hired for his brains. The crash appeared to have been a simple accident. With no further threats, and no leads surfacing to link Simonovich with anyone else, their investigation came to a halt. Wherever they planned to take her, if someone planned to ask for ransom – nothing ever came to light," Fenton explained.

Their father's frustration was evident. There weren't that many cases that went unsolved for them, and for something that hit home as strongly as this must have, neither of them could quite imagine what he must be feeling. Frank knew their father revisited old cases, tried to find new leads, especially when there wasn't anything major going on. He'd even let Frank and Joe practice on a few of the old cases. There was an urgency here, though, about the way things were going that made Frank a little nervous. Before he could ask the question he was framing in his head, Joe beat him to the punch.

"Why are you telling us this story now?" Joe asked. "If you couldn't find the answer after all this time-"

Fenton cut him off. "Carson called me yesterday to tell me he'd received a threatening letter almost exactly like the ones he received then. A letter, a news clipping, and in a new twist, a photograph. It was a photo of Helena standing on her apartment balcony – obviously taken without her knowledge, and with some good equipment."

"He thinks whoever was behind it the first time is back," Frank said.

"That's what he thinks, and what the letters claim," Fenton agreed.

"Are they absolutely sure it was Nancy's mother in the car accident?" Joe asked.

"Yes," Laura said softly. "I was there when Carson identified…her. It was Cecily. She had a birthmark on her shoulder, and her rings, and her face hadn't been...damaged in the accident." Laura closed her eyes, remembering that too-cold room and Cecily's absolutely still form. She'd looked peaceful, and far too young to be dead. The devastated look on Carson's face as he had removed her jewelry and held it in his palm so tight she was afraid he would bleed was something seared into her memory forever. Then he had bent down and he'd kissed that birthmark, and whispered her name. He had been so deathly calm when they'd walked from that room, his eyes dry even as tears rolled down her own cheeks.

Carson hadn't broken until later that night. She hated to even think about what seemed to have been one of the worst nights of her life.

Fenton rose and crossed to his wife, saying nothing as he wrapped his arms around her, bent to touch his head to hers. He knew what she was seeing in her head, knew she was remembering that day and night. "Laura."

There was absolute silence for a long moment, and then Fenton released her. "Are you going to be okay?"

Laura nodded, but she followed him and sat in the desk chair, while Fenton leaned against the desk.

"I hit enough brick walls trying to find a link from Simonovich to well, anyone, that I finally had to give it up. He had a record of being mildly violent, but no stalking – and Carson had never been involved in prosecuting him for anything." His voice was grim as he continued. "We were never able to nail down who had ordered the kidnapping, or whether it was an accident that she died in the car crash. There was never any trace of the people in the other car."

"Which tends to point away from the accidental factor," Frank said grimly. "If it had been a real accident, you think they would have stopped."

Fenton nodded. "Exactly. Carson had received some threats, but nothing out of the ordinary for a prosecutor. If they were trying to get his attention, they succeeded, horribly."

"He could have been the Chicago district attorney, if he hadn't given it up," Laura said. "But now you know why he refuses to defend anyone who he suspects is actually guilty."

"Does Nancy know any of this?" Frank asked, suspecting he already knew the answer.

"Not yet," Fenton said. "But she will, very soon. That was my only condition to Carson about agreeing to work this a second time – Nancy has to know, because otherwise we can't protect her well enough." He turned to his wife. "I know you disagree, Laura."

"I don't disagree that she should know," she said quietly. "I disagree with you giving him an ultimatum."

"I'm not sending my sons into danger without them knowing everything – and if you think there's any way to keep Nancy away from this, you're not thinking clearly." He reached down, and took her left hand in his, rubbing his finger against the simple band she wore. "If he doesn't tell her-"

"You will," Joe finished solemnly.

"She's in danger, whether Carson wants to admit it or not. The letter may be directed more towards Helena, but I don't believe they'll stay away from Nancy. Nor do I think we could keep Nancy away from this case once she knew."

"You're sending us down there?" Frank asked.

"No, we're taking a little Hardy family vacation," Fenton said with what might have passed for a smile. "It's been a long time since we visited River Heights."

---- ---- ----

She heard him come in, even as quiet as he tried to be. Over the course of their marriage, Laura had spent more nights than she cared to remember waiting to hear her husband come in, and nearly as many knowing that she would be sleeping alone.

Tonight, she had been lying in the dark, but she was far from asleep. Fenton was quiet and efficient, and it wasn't long before she felt him slide under the covers. Laura turned to face him, her eyes already adjusted to the dark – that, combined with the faint glow from the nightlight in the bathroom, let her see the familiar contours of his face, the strained look in his eyes.

"I was beginning to think you were sleeping in your office," she said lightly.

"Just straightening things up."

Laura raised an eyebrow. She knew Frank did the majority of the office organization when he was working, and she suspected that Fenton had been occupied with the case file, trying to find some angle that he had not seen before. "You've done all you can do from here."

"I know." He let out a long breath.

"You're going to solve it this time," she said softly, tracing a finger along his jaw.

"I hope so."

She wanted to say something to lift some of the weight from his shoulders, but she didn't have the words. Cecily's death had hit him hard – both as a professional failure and the loss of a friend. It was not something they talked about a lot, at least not now.

The silence lengthened in the comfortable darkness.

"You need to get some sleep," she said finally. "Let it go for the night."

He reached over, running a hand down her spine. "Are you planning to help me?" he asked, pulling her up against him. Laura slid her hands over his shoulders, glad to see him smile a little.

"Maybe if you ask very nicely," she said softly, just before she kissed him.

--- --- ---


	4. Chapter 3

DOUBLE JEOPARDY

By: desert_vixen

Author's Notes: Thanks for all the supportive comments in reviews!

Chronological Note: The previous story, "Meet Me In Chicago", takes place in the middle of June, roughly. This one is set in the beginning of August. The general time frame for the stories is three years after the SuperMysteries, making the characters of legal drinking age.

I'd like to thank my fabulous beta Amy for keeping me from making silly mistakes in the story, and for helping me keep the plot from getting too crazy.

Also, disclaimer: I don't own any of the established ND/HB characters. And I'm in the Army, so suing wouldn't really be worth the money anyway…

---- ---- ----

CHAPTER THREE

_The heat of the late summer afternoon made the lake water especially refreshing. She dove under the water then surfaced, the sun warming her skin. It was peaceful, and quiet, and they were alone. Just the two of them, enjoying the water, and enjoying being alone. She turned on to her back, floating peacefully, until she felt his hand on her ankle, sliding along her leg, and startled, went under the water for a moment._

"_Sorry," he said as she pushed wet hair back from her face. "I didn't mean to scare you."_

"_I'll get you back for that," she replied, her tone mock-threatening._

"_I'm worried," he teased._

"_You should be," she said with a laugh as she tried to push him under the water._

_They wrestled about in the water, but somehow ended holding each other, her legs wrapped around his waist as they shared a kiss, a long kiss…_

The tire swing was still hanging in the back yard, Frank saw as he stepped outside onto the deck. It had been more than two years since he'd been in the Drews' house, but it seemed nothing had changed. Nancy sat in the swing, her back to the house. Frank watched her for a moment before he walked towards her. She was obviously relaxed, face tipped up to enjoy the sun.

"Hi, gorgeous," he said softly near her ear, pulling the ropes to spin the tire swing around so she faced him.

Nancy blinked, looked up at him. "I was just thinking about you," she said slowly. "Too bad I'm obviously dreaming."

He grinned at her. "You're not dreaming."

"Why don't you prove it?" she asked, and he could hear the challenge in her voice.

He slid his hand behind her neck as he bent to kiss her.

"Satisfied?" he said softly as his lips left hers.

"No, this could be a really good dream," she said, eyes closed. "I've had a few."

"If you insist," he said, sliding one arm under her legs, the other behind her back and pulling her out of the swing, leaving it to spin on its ropes. Nancy laughed and slid her hands over his shoulders, as he turned around to find his younger brother standing there, camera in hand. When he would have moved to set her down, she shook her head and kissed him. Only then did she let him put her back on her feet, and she turned to give Joe a hug.

"What are you two doing here?"

----- ----- -----

She still couldn't really believe it. Her father had said that he and Fenton had come up with the idea as a surprise for Nancy, Frank, and Joe – a much-deserved vacation – but there was something about his explanation that simply didn't ring true. Nancy had decided to ignore the small, somewhat annoying voice that told her something was going on, and for at least the rest of the day enjoy the unexpected opportunity. There would be plenty of time in the morning to interrogate her father about why exactly the Hardys were here.

It wasn't only a surprise to her. Hannah was also taken aback, and Nancy could tell the housekeeper thought something was a little strange as well. Carson Drew was generally a good host, and rarely failed to let his housekeeper know important details, like the fact that he had invited houseguests. Nancy had helped her get everything sorted out, biting her tongue to keep from saying anything about the arrangement of guest rooms that saw the brothers being put in separate rooms on the third floor. There were guest rooms on both the second and third floors, but she wondered if the fact that her own bedroom was on the second floor factored into the decision.

It wasn't until Hannah started trying to figure out what they would do for dinner when Nancy remembered her plans for the evening. She had promised Bess that she would put in an appearance at the Scouts fundraiser this evening – at least the early part of it. The councils in the area – both Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts were trying to raise money to save and modernize River Heights' largest roller skating rink, with a skate night that would turn into a lock-in for the Girl Scouts at the rink itself. Bess was involved as an assistant troop leader, and had somehow convinced Nancy to help out. She still wasn't entirely sure why she had agreed to spend the better part of Saturday evening at the event, but suspected it had something to do with the fact that she'd been planning on being alone.

Now she wasn't. If she didn't show up, however, Bess would never let her hear the end of it. They were best friends, and they backed each other up. That, of course, was another reason she had agreed to even go. She had her duty to her guests as well, though. Guests, she realized with a jolt, who needed to be entertained.

It seemed there was really only one thing she could do to fulfill all her obligations.

----- ----- -----

"I can't wait to see Bess's face," Nancy said with a laugh as they got out of the car at the rink. "I know she's been trying to figure out what Eagle Scouts we both knew that she hadn't already tried to invite."

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a vicious streak?" Joe teased as he jumped out of the back seat.

"Now and then," she admitted. "I'm sure I'll be forgiven, though. After all, I'm bringing her you."

Joe grinned, and Frank sighed as he took her hand. "Don't tell him that. It only puffs up his ego."

"Nancy can't help noticing male perfection when it's right in front of her," Joe replied. "She's obviously a woman with taste."

"And she's dating which one of us?" Frank shot back.

"Down, boys," Nancy said, pretending to scold.

----- ----- -----

Inside, it was a madhouse. Nancy didn't think she'd ever seen so many kids in one place, and getting over to the skate rental counter was easier said than done. The teenagers behind the rental counter looked frazzled as they handed out skates in what seemed like an unending flood. Rollerblades were forbidden on the skate floor, and not that many had their own quad skates. Nancy hoped from the looks of things that improving the rental area was on the list of things to modernize. Still, the old place had a charm that was hard to forget. She'd even gone on one of her first-ever dates here, and received her first real kiss in one of the dark corners. It was not, however, a place she had often come with Ned, and that made her smile as well. She didn't want to think of him, not tonight. The guys were still trying to get their skates, and she was trying to find a place for them to sit down and get the skates on.

Bess caught up to Nancy as she was leaving the rental counter. "Nancy! I was starting to think you had backed out on me."

"Would I abandon you?" Nancy teased.

"Normally, no, but I thought you might have second thoughts about spending all Saturday evening with a ton of kids." Bess grimaced at the ugly brown rental skates Nancy carried. "Do they have to be so ugly?"

"At least they're not bowling shoes," Nancy said with a laugh. The neon pink laces used on the women's skates didn't help either. Bess, of course, had her own skates – white with pristine white laces, so they would always match whatever she was wearing. Tonight, it was jeans and a blush pink fitted t-shirt, the Scouting logo on it in darker pink. Nancy hadn't dressed up too much, pairing jeans with a teal vee-neck trimmed around the hem in white lace, her hair down around her shoulders.

"So…where are the guys? And who did you find anyway?"

"They're still getting their skates. And you have forgotten a pair of Eagle Scouts we know," Nancy said as she sat, removing her shoes.

Bess scanned the crowd at the rental counter, then turned back to Nancy with narrowed eyes. "Their last name wouldn't be Hardy, would it?"

Nancy turned and waved at the brothers. "Trust me, it was a surprise for me, too. We would have been here a little earlier, but we all went for dinner at Dona Maria's."

"All?" The question in Bess's voice had Nancy grinning.

"The three of us, and our parents. And Helena," Nancy added after a moment.

"You didn't know they were coming?" Bess had the same note of almost-suspicion that Nancy had felt earlier. "Is something going on?"

"I don't know," Nancy said slowly, but before she could say anything else, the brothers had reached them and Joe had caught Bess up in a hug. When he had released her, she turned to Frank, a smile on her face.

"So you two finally figured it out," Bess said calmly. "It's about time."

----- ---- -----

Bess leaned on the wall, watching the skaters. The rink was anything but quiet, even with the couple skate going on. The sounds of the people not skating around in pairs, the not-quiet slow song being blasted over the speakers, the sound of people in the arcade all contributed to the ambient noise. Three hours of being inside it hadn't killed her ears yet, although she was going to be glad when the lock-in started and most of the people left. The Brownie troop she was an assistant leader for was having a good time, and so was she.

She waved as she watched Joe skate by, hand in hand with a girl who couldn't be more than fourteen, her cheeks wildly pink. Bess resisted the urge to blow him a kiss when she saw the pack of wide-eyed teen girls pointing at Joe and his partner. It didn't take long for her to figure that one out – a dare. She was sure Joe knew it as well, considering the girl's age. Frank and Nancy, of course, were skating together, hands held between them as Nancy glided gracefully backwards. They were talking quietly, and seemed absorbed in each other.

The song ended, and flowed into another, and Bess looked up to find Joe standing in front of her on the rink. The teen-aged girl was skating up to her friends, and Bess could only imagine the conversation that was going to ensue. He was looking fine tonight, in khakis and a dark blue shirt that left her in no doubt that he had been working out. "Care to skate?"

"Why not?" She came around to a break in the wall that allowed admittance to the skating floor, let him pull her forward as she laughed. She rested her hands on his shoulders, as she matched his rhythm, his hands coming to rest on her waist. "I'm sort of surprised Frank and Nancy aren't skating a little closer," Bess said after a moment, when they passed the couple.

"Skating backwards is not one of my big brother's talents," Joe said with a grin, "and it's a lot harder to do the backward thing when you're not the taller half."

"That's never a problem for someone who skates with me," Bess said with a grin. At five-four, she was shorter than both Nancy and George. Joe had a good eight inches in height on her. "Although I can skate backwards as well."

"You're a woman of many skills," he teased. "Want to show off a little?"

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow, then let her hands drop from his shoulders, let them slide down his arms a little. "Give me some room to turn around."

When she had turned, Joe guided her in front of him. It took skill for both of them to skate backwards, and a moment for them to find the right timing. Bess laughed as they managed it without too much trouble. He admired Nancy, but he always enjoyed time spent with Bess. She made people laugh, made people feel good about themselves, and never failed to flirt back with him easily.

"I like the haircut," he said. Strands of hair gently brushed the back of her neck, curling up at the ends.

"I'm letting it grow a little," Bess replied. "I think it was a little too short to start with."

They laughed with each other as they passed Frank and Nancy again, both of them waving at the other couple in unison. Bess saw Frank shake his head slightly. He and Nancy were perfect for each other, but Frank Hardy could be a little too serious, a little too intense, for Bess's taste.

----- ---- -----

The couple skate over, the music gave way to the strains of the infamous "chicken dance" song, and the majority of older people fled the floor as the younger ones were herded on. Bess, of course, was staying with her girls, and Nancy was glad of Joe's foresight in bringing his small digital camera. Bess Marvin doing the "chicken dance" was worth a blackmail picture or two. Just because George couldn't be here in person didn't mean she had to miss the laugh. Frank had offered to brave the refreshment counter, and Nancy and Joe stood by the wall, watching the skaters.

"Enjoying Saturday night in River Heights?" Nancy yelled over the music.

"It's a blast. I mean, I could be hanging out at Mr. Pizza right this second," Joe answered, referring to the popular pizza place run by the Prito family in Bayport.

"Why aren't you?"

Joe flashed her a brilliant smile. "Maybe Dad thought he should make up for the holiday weekend Frank had to miss with you."

Nancy sighed. Whatever was going on, it was obvious she wasn't going to get an answer out of Joe. He could play the dummy with the best of them, but she knew that he was a lot sharper than he sometimes appeared. She could probably push, but this didn't seem like the best time or place.

It could wait, she told herself, until later.

---- ---- ---

Reference Note: There are a few of the Super Mysteries in which the brothers visit River Heights, notably Royal Revenge and Dead on Arrival, both of which are worth a read. (Dead on Arrival especially has some fun scenes between Nancy and Ned, but it also has a hint of Frank/Brenda Carlton, so beware…) Chief McGinnis does have a high opinion of teen detectives.


	5. Chapter 4

DOUBLE JEOPARDY

By: desert_vixen

Author's Notes: Thanks for the supportive comments in the reviews section!

Chronological Note: The previous story, "Meet Me In Chicago", takes place in the middle of June, roughly. This one is set in the beginning of August. The general time frame for the stories is three years after the SuperMysteries, making the characters of legal drinking age.

I'd like to thank my fabulous beta Amy for keeping me from making silly mistakes in the story, and for helping me keep the plot from getting too crazy.

Also, disclaimer: I don't own any of the established ND/HB characters. And I'm in the Army, so suing wouldn't really be worth the money anyway…

---- ---- ----

CHAPTER FOUR

The light-hearted mood shifted as they moved into the den with coffee. The dinner out had been a good idea all around – it was easier for the people who knew about the darker reasons for the trip to not spill in public. The kids had gone off to the skating rink from the restaurant, which meant that they could have the necessary conversation without interruptions. Laura could see that Hannah was definitely curious, but this was going to be hard enough without another pair of ears. So she carried the coffee in herself and poured the cups to pass around. That chore done, she sat on the loveseat next to Fenton, and watched Carson lean against the desk, while Helena seated herself in one of the comfortable chairs.

"Helena," Carson said finally, when everyone was settled and he could see no way of delaying what he had to say any longer. "There is something that we need to talk about."

"Is everything okay?" She leaned forward, a concerned look on her face.

"No," he said quietly. "It's not. The reason I invited the Hardys down here is because I need their help. We need their help," he amended after a moment.

"Carson." Helena rose from her seat, and walked to where he stood, taking one of his hands in hers. "Just tell me."

He could see the concern in her hazel eyes as he studied her face, wondering how she was going to react to this. "Your life is in danger, because of me."

She frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"I received a letter, a threatening letter, the day before yesterday. There was a clipping of the photo that ran in the feature about the gala, and another photo. It was of you, standing on your balcony. The letter writer wanted to be sure I knew how close they could get, and they wanted to remind me of how easy it had been the first time."

"The first time?" Helena echoed. "The first time for what? Carson, this can hardly be the first threatening letter you've received. It's not my first one either, to be honest."

"I could probably publish a book of examples," he admitted ruefully. "It wasn't threatening me, Helena. The threat was very definitely aimed at you."

"How so?" He could hear the faintest bit of doubt in her voice.

"The first time they're referring to was eighteen years ago. I got the same kind of letters, threatening my wife, before she was abducted and killed in a car accident. I believed then, and still do, that the letter writer was responsible for Cecily's death."

"This is crazy," she said, but her voice lacked the conviction it should have had. "May…may I see it?"

Carson walked around to the other side of the desk, unlocked the drawer, and took out the envelope to hand to Helena. She studied each item carefully, and when she handed him back the envelope, he thought she seemed a little pale.

"Have you reported this yet?"

"Russell McGiniss knows," Carson said carefully. He had told the River Heights police chief about the threatening letter as a courtesy. Chief McGiniss was a friend, but more importantly, he had used Frank and Joe on a few occasions. He knew the Hardys got results, just as Nancy did.

"That's not what I asked," Helena replied, her voice sharp.

"I haven't reported it, no. That's why I invited the Hardys down here. There's no one I'd trust more, and Fenton is already familiar with the situation, since I asked for his help the first time."

Helena turned to Fenton, who was rising from the love seat, having shaken off Laura's hand. "What makes you think you'll have any better luck this time? Why not have the police?"

"Russell McGiniss is a good cop, but the River Heights PD can't dedicate all their resources to this. We can," Fenton said calmly. "As far as having better luck, I think you'll have a hard time finding someone more determined to solve this. My sons share that determination, not to mention the challenge of solving a case their old man couldn't. We'll have Nancy as well, I'm assuming."

Helena turned back to Carson. "Nancy doesn't know?"

He shook his head. "Not everything. Not yet."

"This is crazy," Helena repeated, her voice getting a little shaky. "Why is this happening?"

"Someone wants revenge for something," Fenton said. "Or they're just crazy themselves. Maybe a combination of both. This time, we're going to find the person responsible, and keep you safe."

Helena looked as if she wanted to say something, but Carson broke in, taking her hand in his.

"I don't want to have to identify your body." His voice was agonized. "Helena, please. Listen to him."

Laura knew what Carson was seeing in his mind, knew he was remembering that trip to the morgue.

Helena looked at Carson for a long moment, seeing the pain, the haunted look on his face. She laid a hand against his cheek. "Okay, I'm listening," she said quietly, turning her attention to Fenton.

"I'd like to have Joe act as Helena's bodyguard. I'm sure," Fenton said with the first hint of humor he'd felt since dinner, "that Frank won't have any problems keeping an eye on Nancy. There wasn't any physical danger or threat to Carson last time, so I'm not as worried about him."

"What am I supposed to do?" Helena asked.

"Act normal," Fenton replied. "Aside from taking some precautions, act normal."

---- ---- ----

An hour later, the Hardys had excused themselves, and Carson found himself alone with Helena. She still looked a little shaken, and he put his arm around her as they sat on the loveseat. She said nothing, just leaned against him.

"I'm sorry," Carson said at length.

"It's not your fault."

"No, but if we weren't…involved," he said after a pause, "This person wouldn't be fixated on you."

"Carson, don't." When he looked as if he would say more, she laid a finger over his lips. "Don't. This is going to work out."

"You're not convinced you're actually in danger, are you?"

"It seems a little… surreal to me. But if it will make you feel better, I will take the precautions Fenton suggested."

"Good." He leaned over to kiss her. "Stay with me tonight?"

"I thought you didn't want me staying here," she replied. "Something about setting a good example for your daughter."

"I need to know you'll be safe," he whispered.

Helena could see that he really was bothered. "All right. But," she said, deciding to try and lighten up the atmosphere, "I don't have any pajamas."

He smiled at her, recognizing her attempt for what it was. "Oh, I'm sure I can help you with that."

---- ---- ----

"That was Helena's car, wasn't it?" Frank said as he and Nancy walked out onto the deck. They had left Bess at the skating rink, and Joe had presumably headed upstairs to his room. The two of them had come outside to enjoy the quiet.

"That would be her car." It was hard to miss, Nancy thought ruefully – the Porsche was sleek and black, and bore vanity plates that read "LENKA", her family's nickname for her. "It's a pretty sweet ride. It's also a surprise to see it still here. She's never stayed over before."

Frank shrugged. He didn't really want to discuss the situation, especially since he had a good idea why she would have stayed over. His father had been very serious about not letting anything slip to Nancy before Carson talked to her, but she obviously had figured out that there was something besides a vacation going on, even if she hadn't been willing to push on it. She was smart and observant, and he liked it – except when he was being forced to keep something from her.

They stepped down to the grass, and then she stopped him, reaching up to slide her arms around his neck as she kissed him. It was a long kiss, a real kiss, one that left them both a little breathless as she pulled away. His arms were around her waist, as they stood there in the moonlight. "I've been wanting to do that all day," she said softly.

"You're not the only one," he answered, and kissed her again.

There was room for two on the tire swing if she sat on his lap, and they settled in together. Nancy leaned her head back against Frank's shoulder, eyes closed in contentment as his arm settled around her waist.

"I think you owe us for that one, Drew."

"Kids scare you more than criminals?" Nancy teased, not opening her eyes.

"In this case, yes. That was insane."

"Imagine how poor Bess feels," she replied lazily, and they lapsed into silence. He had one of his feet braced against the ground, rocking them slightly, and she didn't want to talk. She just wanted to enjoy this, wanted to know he was here with her.

"I missed you," she said simply, after a while. "A lot."

"I know. I'm sorry about Independence Day," he answered.

"It's not your fault. You three caught the bad guy. It's your job."

It was, and he liked that she got it. "I still would have liked to spend the time with you. After all, you keep getting to show me off, and I haven't had the chance yet."

She smiled. "Dad's been keeping me busy, too. We'll make the time, somehow."

"We will," he said quietly, thinking of their senior year in college – together, but not geographically. There was a small voice that said they wouldn't last beyond the summer, and now and then he found himself listening to it. They had waited a long time to take the chance together, but there had always been a bond between them that was hard to define, exactly. The only thing he was sure of was that he missed her when they weren't together, and all the online chats and phone calls couldn't beat this quiet moment in her back yard. He was reluctant to let it end, no matter how tired he was. In the morning, everything would be changed.

Either Carson Drew would break the news to Nancy – not that she didn't already suspect something was going on – or Fenton Hardy would do it for him. Either way, she would know he had kept a secret from her.

He didn't know how she would react.

----- ----- -----

Reference Note: There are a few of the Super Mysteries in which the brothers visit River Heights, notably Royal Revenge and Dead on Arrival, both of which are worth a read. (Dead on Arrival especially has some fun scenes between Nancy and Ned, but it also has a hint of Frank/Brenda Carlton, so beware…) Chief McGinnis does have a high opinion of teen detectives.


	6. Chapter 5

DOUBLE JEOPARDY

By: desert_vixen

Author's Notes: Thanks for the supportive reviews so far – I hope everyone keeps enjoying the story.

Chronological Note: The previous story, "Meet Me In Chicago", takes place in the middle of June, roughly. This one is set in the beginning of August. The general time frame for the stories is three years after the SuperMysteries, making the characters of legal drinking age.

I'd like to thank my fabulous beta Amy for keeping me from making silly mistakes in the story, and for helping me keep the plot from getting too crazy.

Also, disclaimer: I don't own any of the established ND/HB characters. And I'm in the Army, so suing wouldn't really be worth the money anyway…

---- ---- ----

CHAPTER 5

The waffles were delicious as usual, but Carson found his turning into lead in his stomach. He hadn't slept especially well last night, even with Helena cuddled against him – although it had been quite nice to wake up to the prospect of a steamy shower for two. Helena seemed pretty well at ease at the breakfast table, but he knew she had to be a little uncomfortable. It was hardly the first morning they'd spent together, but the setting in her apartment was more intimate than his bright, sunny dining room. They were also used to much less of an audience. Helena had succeeded in lightening his mood somewhat, but when they had come downstairs, the sight of his daughter laughing with Frank Hardy as the two of them teased Joe about his waffle consumption had brought the weight back down on his shoulders. He knew Fenton was serious about her need to know, but finding the right words, the right way, was going to be difficult.

Hannah said nothing when she took the plate with the half-eaten waffle back to the kitchen, before she seated herself at the table with her own breakfast, but Carson knew she was studying him with concern. He would have to talk to Hannah as well, make her understand the situation. It would not be the first time there had been a threat made against the Drew household, and Hannah had had some scary moments, but this was different. There was a personal element to it, to all of it, that scared him. This was no ordinary criminal.

And that was why Nancy had to know. Carson locked eyes with Fenton, nodded decisively. Fenton returned the nod, his eyes serious. It was time they got things moving.

----- ---- ----

Nancy was not-quite surprised when her father called her into the den after breakfast. She was somewhat surprised when he closed and locked the door behind them, wondering what he felt he needed the privacy for. Whatever was going on, she felt a little tingle of excitement at being let in on the mystery. She knew there had to be a mystery. It was the only explanation that fit what few facts she had.

There was a part of him that would always think of Nancy as his little girl, but as she sat on the couch now, she reminded Carson of her mother. Her solemn blue eyes brought to mind Cecily's dancing blue ones, and he remembered with a pang how pleased they had both been when it became clear Nancy's eyes were going to turn blue rather than brown. He couldn't deny that his dead wife had been on his mind these last few days, and the memory of his failure. Nancy, on the other hand, was his success, his pride and joy. He'd raised her to be smart, curious – sometimes almost too much for her own good. His biggest fear wasn't having to actually tell Nancy the truth about her mother's death – it was wondering how she would react to the news.

"Dad?" She looked at him steadily, saw how uncomfortable he was as he leaned against the desk, trying not to look nervous. "What's wrong?"

"I had hoped that somehow, I would never have to tell you this. I always told myself it wasn't the right time, or that I didn't want to spoil the moment by telling you. To be honest, I don't think I would ever have found the right time if this hadn't come up." He took a deep breath. "It's about your mother, Nancy, and how she died."

"You always told me she died in a car accident," Nancy said slowly.

"That wasn't a lie," he said quickly, wanting to reassure her. "It just wasn't all of the truth."

"What do you mean, Dad?"

He took another deep breath. "Your mother was killed in a car accident. However, she was in that car because she had been abducted. The man driving the car, as far as we could discover was the man who had abducted her. She'd been drugged, most likely. Both of them were killed, the other car left the scene, and the case just sort of…lost momentum, or ran into brick walls. Fenton worked at it hard, the police worked on it, but we never found out who ordered the abduction."

"Ordered the abduction?" Nancy asked quietly. "You mean it wasn't just some random thing."

He could see her trying to process what he was telling her, trying to fit it against what she knew. "No, it wasn't random. I – we – had received threatening letters, very specifically directed against your mother. They were hardly the first ones I'd received. We discussed her going away, taking you to visit her family, but in the end we decided against it. Fenton had agreed to help, and we had some police protection." He spread his hands in a helpless gesture.

"But they still got her," Nancy whispered. "Oh, Dad." She crossed to him, hugged him tightly, and felt him return the embrace. "Dad, it's not your fault."

They stood like that for a long moment, before they released each other, before Carson spoke again. "The letters are coming again," he said. "Only this time, they're aimed at Helena."

Suddenly, the events of the last day fell into place. "That's why the Hardys are here, isn't it?"

He nodded. "This time, we will stop whoever is behind this."

There was a long silence, and he noticed that she didn't ask if that "we" included her. She had definitely inherited his confidence, he thought with a bitter smile, his take-charge attitude. That could cause trouble, he knew from experience.

"You're probably upset with me, Nancy, and I can't blame you," Carson said.

"I… I don't know, Dad. I think I need some time to myself, to think," she said softly.

He watched her start to walk from the room, then she obviously changed her mind, because she turned back to hug him again. After she had left the room, presumably to go up to her room, he sat at the desk for a long time, deep in thought.

---- ---- ---

"Nancy?" Laura knocked on the door, over an hour later. "May I come in?"

After a few moments, the door opened. Her friend's daughter stood there, her cheeks showing traces of tears, but she didn't try to block Laura from coming in. It had been a long time since she'd been in Nancy's bedroom, Laura thought irrelevantly – probably not since Nancy had started high school. The crisp teal and white suited her, elegant and feminine without being overdone. She couldn't help smiling a little as she saw the picture of Nancy and Frank sitting on the computer desk.

Laura turned back to Nancy, saw the scrapbook she had made her for a sweet sixteen gift sitting on the bed. There were pictures from Cecily's childhood and teen years, her wedding to Carson, and the short three years of Nancy's life when she'd had both her parents alive. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Nancy nodded, sat down on the bed with the scrapbook. It was open to a formal portrait of the Drew family – the last one, Laura realized suddenly. Carson wore a dark green shirt and blue tie, complementing the matching green-and-blue his wife and daughter wore – Cecily in a green sweater, her reddish hair spilling over her shoulders, Nancy's blonde curls held back by barrettes, dressed in a green-and-blue plaid dress with a white lace collar. They all smiled at the camera, and the picture conveyed a sense of happiness, of closeness, of family. She had still had the picture on her mantel when Cecily was killed, and it had stayed up for a long time.

"Why didn't anyone ever tell me?" Her tone was quiet. Not accusing, but curious, wondering, as if she was still trying to make sense of it. "Why didn't anyone ever tell me my own mother was the victim of an unsolved murder?"

"It wasn't my decision to make," Laura answered. "I wasn't the one who had to live with the results of you knowing, and Carson was. A lot of people in River Heights may not know everything – another decision your father made that I can't criticize."

"I barely even remember her," Nancy whispered, reaching out a finger to trace over the faces in the photo. "I know what Dad has told me, and I have this scrapbook, but I can barely remember what she was like."

"You're a lot like her," Laura said slowly. "She was a wonderful woman, a wonderful friend, and she loved you and Carson so much. Cecily was so proud of him, of the difference his work made in people's lives. She was so proud of you," she continued, feeling a lump forming in her throat, "at how fast you learned things. We were so competitive about you and Frank, and your milestones."

"He's almost two months older than I am," Nancy pointed out, interested in spite of the fact that they were getting off the subject.

"Yes, but you walked before he did," Laura said with a slightly faraway smile. "Of course, it felt like both he and Joe graduated right to running. There were all sorts of things that we compared, and teased each other over. But," she said, drawing a deep breath, "that's not really what we were talking about."

"No, it's not."

"I think, Nancy, that Carson didn't want to weigh you down with it. He couldn't explain it to you then. It was hard enough for him as it was."

"You were there," Nancy said.

Laura nodded. "We were there. I'd left the boys with their grandmother Hardy – Fenton's mother was still alive then – and come to help. Carson and Cecily were trying to act normal, Fenton was trying to track down the letter writer, and I was doing some research on that angle. Maybe in hindsight, we should have barricaded ourselves in the apartment, but we didn't. The first news we had that there was a problem was when your daycare called to tell us you were still there. Then, we found out about the accident."

Nancy watched as Laura glanced down at the scrapbook between them, then closed her eyes. "I went with Carson to identify her body. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done. Until I sat with him while he told you that something had happened to Mommy, and that she had gone to heaven. It's probably better that you don't remember that."

Laura held out her hand, and Nancy took it. Then they were hugging each other, and Laura felt the tremor that ran through the younger woman.

"We should get downstairs, if you're ready," Laura said after a long moment, letting go of her. "There's work to be done."

As if her words had summoned it, there was a knock at the door. Nancy opened it to find Frank standing there, looking from her to his mother with concern in his eyes.

"Dad is wondering if we're all ready to start," he told them.

Laura rested her hand on Nancy's shoulder for a minute. "I'll go down, get everyone rounded up." She closed the door behind her, leaving the two of them alone in silence.

"Are you okay, Nancy?"

She said nothing, just slid her arms around his waist, resting her body against his. He rubbed a hand along her back as he rested his chin on her head. He wanted to say something, but there didn't seem to be anything that fit the moment. So he held her, and waited for her to make the next move.

The next move turned out to be her stepping back, looking up at him with serious eyes. "How long have you known?"

"Friday morning."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I gave my word I wouldn't. Dad – he wanted your father to tell you. He didn't want it to come from one of us."

She gave him a long, searching look. "What if I asked for your word?"

"As long as it doesn't break another promise, you have it."

"Don't keep things from me, even if you think it will hurt me." She exhaled slowly. "I think I'm as okay as I'm going to get."

He took her hand. "They won't get away this time, Nancy. We won't let them."

"Well then," she said, twining her fingers with his, "let's get started."

---- ---- ----


	7. Chapter 6

DOUBLE JEOPARDY

By: desert_vixen

Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay in chapters here, but that pesky real life thing kept popping up – I got to go home on my midtour leave, had little time to write, and then hit a patch of writer's block. Hopefully the next chapter won't take too long…

Chronological Note: The previous story, "Meet Me In Chicago", takes place in the middle of June, roughly. This one is set in the beginning of August. The general time frame for the stories is three years after the SuperMysteries, making the characters of legal drinking age.

I'd like to thank my fabulous beta Amy for keeping me from making silly mistakes in the story, and for helping me keep the plot from getting too crazy.

Also, disclaimer: I don't own any of the established ND/HB characters. And I'm in the Army, so suing wouldn't really be worth the money anyway…

---- ---- ----

CHAPTER 6

She couldn't really believe this was happening. Even after seeing the fear in Carson's eyes last night, she had still not been totally convinced. Things like this just didn't happen to people she knew. She had grown up a lawyer's daughter, and there had been a few times that he had received a threat of some sort. When he had, however, it had simply been a matter of calling the police, and keeping their guard up. She wasn't sure which she found crazier, the somewhat cloak-and-dagger approach or the fact that the others seemed to think it was just par for the course.

The photo disturbed her. Helena was willing to admit that. It was creepy to think that someone was taking surveillance shots of her. It was the whole rest of the story that seemed a little surreal. This morning in the warm sunlight, she had almost dismissed it, had enjoyed putting them both in a good mood. What had worried her was the fact that she had to sit down to breakfast with a houseful of people she didn't know well – including her lover's daughter. Thankfully, the reaction from everyone else had been low-key.

Carson had shut himself in the den with Nancy, where Helena had assumed he was telling her the story. After an hour, Helena had gone to investigate, and found Carson sitting at the desk, deep in thought. Nancy was nowhere to be seen. He had seemed calm enough, if a bit distracted, and when she had started to talk about leaving, he had asked her to wait until Fenton had talked to everyone.

Now, she watched as the rest of the group assembled. Carson had kept his seat at the desk, and Fenton Hardy sat on the edge of the desk, arms crossed over his chest. Helena had taken one of the comfortable chairs under the window so she could watch everyone involved, while Laura Hardy sat serenely in the chair next to her, as if she had watched a similar scene many times before. Nancy and Frank sat next to each other on the couch, and neither their linked hands or the warm smile Nancy had aimed at her father had passed unnoticed. Joe perched on the arm of the couch, which put Nancy solidly between the brothers. There was a sense of the trio being a team, and the attitude of the brothers struck Helena as protective. Hannah Gruen was there as well, and the best word Helena could come up with to describe her demeanor was resigned, as if proceedings like this were not totally unknown to her.

"Hannah," Carson said slowly, "I'm afraid that the Hardys are not here on a simple vacation. There have been some threats made, and I thought it would be better to have detectives we know on the case, instead of the police."

"I had guessed something was going on," the housekeeper said dryly, and there was some quiet laughter. She listened in silence as Carson gave her a rundown of the events so far, and Helena was amused to note that the older woman's only real reaction was a sigh. It was evident that she felt the right people were handling things, and that she was used to the household being turned upside down by a mystery.

"We're not anticipating any trouble here," Fenton said, picking up the cue to lead the discussion. "Just keep a watchful eye out when you are out."

Hannah nodded. There was no need to add that the Drews had a top-of-the-line security system.

"This is going to take all of us to handle," Fenton said. "It's more like two cases than one, even if we do expect it to meet in the middle. I'll be working on the older part of the case, tracking any leads that can still be tracked. It's possible that after eighteen years, someone may either feel like talking, or have told someone else. Joe, you'll be keeping an eye on Helena. Frank, you'll stay with Nancy, and the two of you will be looking at the current run of threats."

"Nice division of labor," Joe teased, getting another round of laughs.

"You can get started by going back to her apartment and seeing if you can figure out where our friendly photographer might had his equipment set up," Fenton said. Joe was their photography person, in addition to providing the muscle and mischief.

Joe nodded, all business now.

"Carson, Helena, your task is to act as normal as possible."

"How am I supposed to do that with your son 'keeping an eye on me'?" Helena asked with a trace of annoyance.

"He's good at finding excuses to be places he shouldn't be," Nancy said with a smile.

---- ----- ----

Nancy waited for the others to start leaving the room, then walked up to the desk where Fenton Hardy was still sitting. Frank paused in the doorway, waiting to see what happened. He'd seen that determined look in her eyes before, usually right before she started a heated discussion with him. It was a little strange to watch her face off against his father.

"Why?" Nancy said quietly. "Why did you tell them to keep me in the dark?"

"It wasn't their place, and it wasn't a burden I would put on my sons' shoulders," Fenton said steadily. "I felt something this important should come from your father."

"And if he hadn't told me? What then?"

"Then I would have told you myself. I had promised your father I would give him time, but only so much." He faced her squarely. "I would not have started the investigation until you knew, Nancy."

"I…I want to read the old case file," she said after a moment. The ground had shifted under her when he hadn't argued with her, and she felt some of her anger drain away. She knew, in her heart, that Fenton and Laura and her father had not kept the full story from her just to keep a secret, but because they had felt it was for the best.

He studied her, seeing the resolve in her eyes. "That's your right. I'll bring it downstairs for you."

----- ---- -----

Helena swallowed annoyance as she walked down the hall to her apartment. It wasn't Joe's fault that she was stuck with him as… well, as a bodyguard, she decided, as over-the-top as that sounded to her. She had been somewhat mollified at his obvious appreciation of her Porsche – she sensed he was a fellow fast driver. She still couldn't figure out how she was going to explain him away – her office already employed a pair of law students as general errand-runners, both of them saving for tuition and getting at least a little experience in how an office worked, and Joe definitely was not going to pass for a law student. There was a limit to how far she would go to make Carson feel better.

She reached for the knob as she moved to insert the key.

It turned in her hand.

Helena frowned. She knew she had locked the door before she left yesterday afternoon, on her way over to the Drews'. She always locked the door.

"What's wrong?" Joe asked, voice quiet.

"The door's unlocked," she answered, a cold suspicion settling in her stomach.

She opened the door, and discovered she hadn't been wrong. When she had left yesterday, the apartment had been neat and tidy. Now, it was a disaster. She could hear Joe calling someone on the phone, but didn't pay attention to him until he touched her shoulder.

"Backup's on the way," he said loudly, and Helena realized he thought the intruder might still be there.

At first glance, it looked like wanton destruction, but the longer Helena looked, the more she realized there was a sick sort of pattern. The expensive stereo system and flatscreen television were untouched, but the framed pictures on the walls had been taken down, glass smashed, frames broken. The portable valuables – the ornate silver candlesticks that stood on her mantel, the small electronics – were still there, but the truly personal things – her photo albums, the photos on the wall – thrown around, broken, violated.

"How does the rest of it look?" Helena asked Joe shakily.

"About the same," he replied steadily. "I'm pretty sure whoever did it has been gone for awhile. The lock was forced."

Helena just stared at him for a moment. This cannot be happening to me, she told herself.

---- --- ----


	8. Chapter 7

DOUBLE JEOPARDY

By: desert_vixen

Author's Notes: Sorry that the chapters keep having these long delays, but sometimes my muse decides to be uncooperative. My goal is to finish the story before I redeploy (leave Iraq to go home), which is about a month and a half.

Chronological Note: The previous story, "Meet Me In Chicago", takes place in the middle of June, roughly. This one is set in the beginning of August. The general time frame for the stories is three years after the SuperMysteries, making the characters of legal drinking age.

I'd like to thank my fabulous beta Amy for keeping me from making silly mistakes in the story, and for helping me keep the plot from getting too crazy.

---- ---- ----

CHAPTER 7

The next three hours seemed to pass by in slow-motion for her. Helena watched the two-man crime scene team process the scene – her apartment. Photographs, fingerprints, the threatening note left on the middle of her bed – all the evidence was collected. She had sorted through the disaster area that had once been her tidy bedroom, putting together a suitcase of clothes and other necessities. Staying here was out of the question.

Fenton Hardy studied the scene with his mouth set in a grim line, the River Heights chief of police standing beside him. The two men had talked briefly, and Helena had noted the friendly, yet professional way they treated each other. She had met Russell McGiness at some function she'd gone to with Carson, but never imagined they would meet at a scene like this. Frank had gone with his brother to follow up on the idea of figuring where the anonymous photographer had taken her picture from. Carson watched silently from the kitchen, but she'd seen the sick look on his face as he had taken in the destruction.

She could almost see the thought in his head – what if she had been here last night, alone? What if she hadn't yielded to his wish for her to stay? The threatening note with its ominous red square capitals and the malicious destruction in her apartment, especially in her bedroom, were more than enough to scare her. Helena was having a hard time getting the disturbing images of what could have happened out of her head. She had not really, completely, believed Carson before.

She believed him now.

A locksmith came out, installed a new lock. After Chief McGiness and his people had left, everyone pitched in to straighten things up. Helena couldn't bear to leave her apartment in a total shambles, but cleaning everything was going to be a day's worth of work, and they did not have the time, not to do all that she wanted to do. It would have to wait for tomorrow, she told herself sadly, when she could attack the place with every cleaning product she owned.

---- ---- ----

Nancy sat in the den with the file folder Fenton had given her. She knew she would be unable to focus on the present-day case until she read it. Now that she knew there was a mystery, she couldn't ignore it. Her mother's absence was something she had grown used to, simply the way things were and had almost always been. As she had told Laura, Nancy could barely remember anything concrete about her mother. She had grown used to pitying stares from strangers, used to some of the awkwardness that came of having only a single father, especially from people who assumed Carson and Cecily were divorced. Hannah Gruen had filled some of those spaces, but at the same time she had been another way that Nancy was different. There had been some amusing, if embarrassing, moments in which Hannah had been assumed to be her mother, or her grandmother.

She took a deep breath, then opened the folder as she sat in the sunlight. The story inside was one of sadness and frustration. A majority of the case file had been put into the computer, updated and printed out as recently as the last winter. Fenton Hardy's handwritten notes were scattered throughout, with a final handwritten page of the most recent information. There was nothing new or spectacular in them, no connection that she could see that had evaded them. The man who had been killed in the car with her mother was a small-time hood, with no connection to her father.

The pictures that accompanied the file were stark, police photographs with no artistry, and Nancy stared at the photo that showed her mother slumped over in the seat for a long time. It was not an image she wanted to carry with her, but she knew it would stick with her.

The threatening letters, as well as the clipping from the Chicago paper, were also in the folder, and she read them as well. In the photo that was part of the article, her parents were holding each other and facing the camera. They were obviously happy, and Nancy wondered what about the clipping had prompted the letter-writer to include a copy every time he wrote a letter. It had to mean something for them to go to the trouble, even if she couldn't see what it was.

"Now you know," she said softly to the empty room. The problem was, there wasn't much in the folder to go on that hadn't already been looked at more than once. At least now she had as much of the story as everyone else. There weren't many answers in the file, but maybe there were some of the right questions.

---- ---- ----

Helena watched as Carson set her suitcase down in the master bedroom. "Carson…" She trailed off, trying to search for an adequate word for the situation they were in.

"Would you be more comfortable sleeping in a guest room?" He kept his voice carefully bland. He couldn't keep thoughts of how her apartment had looked – the destruction, the note, the fact that the dress she'd worn to the benefit where they had been photographed for the paper had been ripped to shreds – out of his head, mixed with the knowledge of what would have happened had she been alone in the apartment. If she hadn't given into his request last night – and he had known that she didn't completely believe him, that she had been humoring him – she could have been missing right now.

She could have been killed.

He would have been responsible again.

"I'll be fine in here," Helena said softly. "What do we do now?"

"That's what we need to figure out," he said heavily. "I don't think that our original plan is going to work."

"I want to clean up my apartment tomorrow," Helena said firmly.

"We can do that," he answered.

She reached out to lay a hand on his arm. "Are you okay?" It was a question that sounded silly to her as soon as she asked it. He wasn't any more 'okay' than she was, and the situation wasn't likely to improve. They had a stalker crazy enough to break into her apartment, and they didn't have the slightest clue who it was.

"You could have been killed," he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her. "You could have been killed."

Helena leaned her head against his shoulder, sliding her arms around his waist and holding him tightly. She could feel the tension in his frame, and didn't need to look into his face to see the bleak expression in his dark eyes. "We'll get through this," she whispered finally when she was sure her voice wouldn't betray her fear that she was wrong. "We will get through this."

---- ---- ----

Dinner was subdued. Hannah had brought home what appeared to be an entire deli, and heated up her homemade chicken-and-rice soup. She and Laura had set everything out – bread, cold cuts, cheese, and condiments, as well as some chips – but dinner was strictly self-serve, as the group assembled around the kitchen counter.

"What is on that sandwich?" Nancy asked Joe incredulously, looking at the huge sandwich he was preparing to demolish.

"What's not on it might be the better question," he teased.

She shook her head while making her own less-than-dainty ham sandwich. They could always count on Joe to provide a little much needed break when things got serious. Things were definitely serious, and she cast a concerned glance at her father, who was sitting down with a bowl of the hearty soup. He looked pale and tired. Frank had told her what the apartment had looked like, so she could understand her father looking concerned. Things were moving faster this time, and taking a more violent turn. They needed to find the answers, and soon.

Fenton broke the quiet. "We need to adjust strategy. Acting normal doesn't look like it's going to be an option. For whatever reason, this time they're trigger-happy."

"Could we not use that phrase?" Carson muttered.

Fenton nodded. "Sorry."

"I'm willing to close my office. I don't have anything that requires me to be in court this week, and I can bring what I am working on here," Helena said. The idea of her office being targeted had occurred to her on the drive home, and she didn't want anyone else dragged into this. "Tomorrow, I am cleaning up my apartment."

"Joe will go with you, and I can help as well," Laura said. "We might find something useful while we're there."

"We'll be trying to track down a few angles," Frank added.

"So will I," Fenton answered. "I suggest we let this go for the evening. It's been a long day."

There was no argument.

---- ---- ----

"How do you feel?" The two of them had gone out into the back yard, and Frank sat on the deck steps as he watched Nancy idly pull weeds from the flower beds.

"Like I don't want to think about the case – either case – anymore tonight," she said quietly. "It's been a long day." It seemed like an eternity ago that she had woken up to the rich smell of waffles, and bounced out of bed with a smile.

"That sounds like a plan." He watched her dust off her hands and come to sit beside him, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Any chance I could provide you with a distraction?"

"I thought Joe specialized in providing the distractions," Nancy said lightly, enjoying the feeling of his shoulder under her cheek.

"Depends on what kind of distraction we're talking about," Frank replied.

She lifted her head and smiled at him. "What kind of distraction did you have in mind?"

He bent his head to kiss her, sliding an arm around her shoulders. "I'm sure we can think of something."

Her only response was to kiss him back.

---- ---- ----


	9. Chapter 8

DOUBLE JEOPARDY

By: desert_vixen

Author's Notes: I know it's been a little long between chapters. The characters stopped cooperating for a few days there. I hope everyone is still enjoying the story – I'm enjoying the reviews!

Chronological Note: The previous story, "Meet Me In Chicago", takes place in the middle of June, roughly. This one is set in the beginning of August. The general time frame for the stories is three years after the SuperMysteries, making the characters of legal drinking age.

I'd like to thank my fabulous beta Amy for keeping me from making silly mistakes in the story, and for helping me keep the plot from getting too crazy.

Also, disclaimer: I don't own any of the established ND/HB characters. And I'm in the Army, so suing wouldn't really be worth the money anyway…

---- ---- ----

CHAPTER 8

"You two look way too serious for a lunch date," Bess Marvin said cheerfully as she stopped in front of the table. "Mind if I join you?"

Nancy had to smile. It was hard not to be in a good mood when Bess was around. "Go ahead."

Bess didn't pick up the turkey wrap on her plate, but studied the two of them for a moment. "Something is going on, then."

Frank looked around the nearly-deserted outdoor seating area of the sandwich shop. It had been late when he and Nancy had decided to take a break, and now the only people sitting there were the three of them, and a group of older ladies at the other end of the patio. It was a pretty good place to have a conversation they didn't need the world to overhear. "We're here on a case."

"I'm not that blond, Hardy – I figured that much out," Bess teased. "What brings you all here?"

"It's about my mother," Nancy said slowly. "How she died."

Bess's eyes went from interested to sympathetic in a moment. "Nancy…" She reached out and took her friend's hand.

Nancy fought back the tears that threatened at the simple show of friendship. "It's okay," she said softly, and told Bess the story – what had happened to her mother, and how the stalker seemed to be back.

Bess looked at Frank. "So that's why you're in town."

"For all the good we've done, yes." He and Nancy had spent the morning trying to track down any current leads. There wasn't much to show for the morning, although they had come to the conclusion that the stalker was staying in River Heights. They'd been able to show that the clipping came from the River Heights paper, not one of the Chicago papers. The problem was that they didn't know how long their stalker had been in River Heights, and that was disturbing. River Heights was somewhat larger than Bayport, and growing, but one of the things it was known for was being the home base of Carson Drew, and to a somewhat lesser extent, Nancy. The only way the stalker could have not known he was moving to Carson Drew's hometown was if he'd been living under a rock, which supported the theory that the stalker maybe wasn't playing with a full deck. The fact remained, however, that nothing had happened until the picture of Carson and Helena ran in the newspaper.

"You'll figure it out," Bess said firmly. "Can I help?"

"We haven't needed a distraction yet," Nancy said with a hint of a smile. "People are willing to talk, they just don't have anything useful to tell us."

"I may need to distract my mother," Bess said with a laugh. "She wants to get everyone together for dinner, or something. She's still a little annoyed at your dad for keeping Helena under wraps."

"That wouldn't be such a great idea right now," Nancy replied. "Things are a little tense."

Bess nodded. "So where is Joe?"

"Ah," Frank teased, "now we see why you wanted to sit with us." The three of them laughed, and he watched Bess's cheeks turn a little pink.

"Well," she replied, "you two shouldn't have all the fun."

--- --- ---

Joe breathed a sigh of relief as he started the rented Explorer. He knew bodyguard duty was far from the glamorous life some people envisioned, but this was the first time he'd been on an assignment that literally required him to help clean up. The morning they'd spent at Helena's apartment hadn't yielded anything useful as far as the case was concerned, but Helena seemed a little more herself.

"Lunch?" he said hopefully, looking at his mother.

Laura shook her head. "Hannah said something about doing a roast for dinner. Helena, are you hungry?"

"A little," she contributed from the back seat. "I'm fine with something fast."

"Your choice, then, Joe," Laura said. "We'll take it back to the house."

He nodded. Fenton had emphasized that it would probably be easier to keep an eye on Helena if they stayed out of public places. "Drive-thru at McDonalds' it is, then."

--- --- ---

"How do you do it?" Helena asked as the two women sat together in the sunny living room. "How do you stay so calm?"

"Lots of practice," Laura said with a wry smile. "He told me I'd have to be crazy to marry him, and he was probably right."

"Doesn't what they do bother you?" Helena pressed.

"It worries me," Laura admitted. She had accepted Fenton's career, because she had known it was more than a career to him – it was a calling. When he'd come to her and told her he wanted to leave the force to start an agency of his own, it had been something of a relief. That had faded as she had realized that the agency wouldn't necessarily be any less dangerous, that it would actually mean he was away from home more often. "I can't stop them, though. I can't imagine Fenton doing anything else, and for my sons, it seems to run in the blood." After a moment, she continued. "It's different with Carson, you know."

Helena sighed. "I know. He's not sleeping well at all."

"He blames himself for Cecily's death. It's why he came here, why he refuses to defend anyone he doesn't believe is innocent. I'm always surprised that he never tried to stop Nancy from being a detective, because of the danger." Laura frowned, remembering how Carson had seemed uncomfortable with the whole idea of Frank and Nancy as a couple at the beginning of the summer. They'd never had a chance to talk about it, but part of her wondered if there wasn't some connection. "Carson's managed to keep the violence out of his home, for the most part. I was so pleased to find out he was finally involved with someone again," Laura finished.

"I don't plan to be scared off," Helena said quietly. "I love him."

"I'm glad," Laura quietly. "I just wish someone wasn't using it against him."

Helena stood. "I'm going to go use the computer in the office for awhile. I do have some work to do."

Laura nodded. The office was probably one of the most secure rooms in the house, with no windows. "Try not to have too much fun," she said, making her voice light.

When the other woman had left the room, Laura sat down in one of the chairs, looking out the window but not really seeing the scenery outdoors. Helena's quietly defiant statement had pushed her back into the past for a moment, remembering the night before Cecily's death. Carson had tried to convince her to take Nancy and go stay somewhere. Cecily had pointed out that they had no idea who to be on the lookout for, and insisted that she would be safe enough with Fenton on the job. It had been a happy enough night, likely because none of them had known that it was the last one. Nancy had been enjoying having four adults to entertain herself with, and Laura thought they'd all been glad for the distraction. She could still remember Cecily finally carrying the sleepy toddler off to her room, could still hear the soft lullaby her friend had been singing…

Laura started as she heard her son's deep voice, the sound breaking her out of the bittersweet reverie. Standing in the doorway, he looked very much a younger version of his father – they both had a tendency to lean against doorframes. "You're back."

"Are you okay?" His voice was concerned, and for the first time, Laura realized her cheeks were damp. Nancy stood next to him, an arm around his waist.

"I'm fine," Laura assured them as they sat down. "I was just lost in the past for awhile. Did you have any luck?"

"Not much," Frank admitted. "I want to talk to Dad about it. How was the apartment?"

"A disaster area. We didn't find anything useful," Laura said. "Helena seems to be doing a little better."

"Dad's not," Nancy said with a frown.

"He's worried," Laura agreed. They were all worried, she thought, and with good reason. "Fenton should be back fairly soon," she told Frank. "I think you and Nancy should take the night off. Go have dinner somewhere, spend time being a couple. The two of you don't get enough of a chance to see each other." She smiled at Nancy. "Especially since you've picked my workaholic son."

"It's harder to fight through all the other women surrounding the other one," Nancy teased.

"Are you serious, Mom?"

"I am. Your father and brother will be here, along with the rest of us. If it makes you feel better, tomorrow night he can go out, and you can stay here." She looked at him seriously. "Take the opportunity you have. They don't always come again."

--- ---- ----


	10. Chapter 9

DOUBLE JEOPARDY

By: desert_vixen

Author's Notes: Thanks again to everyone who's been reading and reviewing – I really appreciate them! This chapter features a cameo by one of River Heights' other well-known residents – nothing says fun like when everyone's home for summer vacation!

Chronological Note: The previous story, "Meet Me In Chicago", takes place in the middle of June, roughly. This one is set in the beginning of August. The general time frame for the stories is three years after the SuperMysteries, making the characters of legal drinking age.

I'd like to thank my fabulous beta Amy for keeping me from making silly mistakes in the story, and for helping me keep the plot from getting too crazy.

Also, disclaimer: I don't own any of the established ND/HB characters. And I'm in the Army, so suing wouldn't really be worth the money anyway…

---- ---- ----

Chapter 9

It was a little strange, Nancy reflected as she climbed the stairs to the third floor, to be getting ready for a date when they were both in the same house. This was definitely a date, although she had been surprised that Fenton Hardy hadn't put up some resistance to the idea. His day hadn't been any more productive than theirs, and it was clear he was frustrated. Nancy could only assume Laura had said something. Her father hadn't said anything negative, but he'd holed up in his office, where Nancy was hoping Helena could talk him into getting some rest. It was clear he wasn't sleeping well.

Nancy turned down the short hallway, and saw that the door to the room Frank was using was open. She stopped in the doorway, watching him fasten the buttons on the cuffs of his dress shirt. It wasn't until she gave a low whistle that he turned and saw her.

"Shouldn't I be making you wait?" Nancy teased.

He shook his head, reached for the dark sage green tie on the dresser. "Too many decisions about what to wear," he teased back.

She watched him knot the tie with quick, sure movements. It had been awhile since she'd seen him in a shirt and tie, at least a year or two – she'd forgotten what the occasion was, but she remembered liking it. It was a good look on him. The dark blue of the shirt went nicely with the tie, and they both went nicely with Frank. "I approve."

He took a moment to study her from head to toe. The sage green dress – vee-neck, wrap front – fit her perfectly, and her hair spilled down around her shoulders. "You look great," he said after a moment.

"Thank you," she said quietly, as he stepped toward her. "Ready to head downstairs?"

"In a moment," he answered, sliding his arms around her waist. "I've been wanting to do this all day," he said softly as he kissed her.

They had made an agreement to focus on the job, but they weren't on the job now, Nancy thought as she slid her hands over his shoulders and kissed him back.

He pulled away from her, his eyes warm and dark. "We should probably head down."

---- ----- ----

"I still can't believe Joe made us pose for pictures," Frank commented as they drove towards downtown River Heights. Nancy had picked one of the restaurants near the Muskoka River, a favorite of hers.

"I suspect someone put him up to it," she replied.

"No, he's more than capable of finding ways to embarrass us all by himself," he said, shaking his head. "You'd think we were going to prom or something."

Nancy laughed. "I think he just wanted to annoy you a little."

"He's good at that. The picture will be nice to have," he admitted. "Just don't tell him I said that."

She gave him a smile. "I promise."

"So where are we eating?"

"Don Giovanni's. They have fabulous Italian food, and seating overlooking the river." She refrained from mentioning that she and Ned had gone there quite a bit. That was one of the disadvantages of living in a smallish town – when you broke up with the guy you had dated since high school, avoiding the places you liked didn't leave you with a lot of options. So she'd made herself go back there. Now she could walk in the door without being assaulted by unwelcome memories.

"Sounds good."

The restaurant was somewhat crowded for a Monday evening, but they were able to get a cozy semi-circle booth in a secluded corner. Frank had to agree that the river view was nice, but he had to admit he enjoyed the inside view more. Nancy sat beside him, blue eyes dancing in the not-strictly-necessary candlelight. They had both decided to go with shrimp scampi, and he watched her contemplating the handwritten dessert menu.

They kept the conversation light, avoiding the investigation by mutual agreement. Frank knew they'd be back at it tomorrow, but for right now he wanted to relax and enjoy what was a relatively rare opportunity. He reached down, taking her hand in his and lifting it to his lips. "This is nice."

"It is," she agreed softly. "I wish we could go on a date more often."

"I know." He was about to say something more, until the waiter appeared with their dinner. The scampi was excellent, as was the cheesecake topped with fresh blackberries that followed it. Dessert finished, they sat there watching the river, Frank's arm draped around her shoulders as she leaned against him.

"Penny for your thoughts," he said quietly, glancing down at her.

She tilted her head back slightly to meet his eyes. "Just thinking how much I don't want this to end."

He kissed her, one of his thumbs tracing the line of her jaw. "Who says it has to?"

His eyes were dark, fixed on her, his hand still resting against her neck. Before either of them could say anything, a grating voice intruded on their quiet corner.

"Nancy! Ne-" Brenda Carlton stood in front of their table as Nancy looked up. The woman standing there in the bright red mini-dress had spent a large portion of their school lives annoying Nancy – another disadvantage to growing up in a place like River Heights. For some reason, Brenda's father had opted not to send her to private school, and she'd been a thorn in Nancy's side since high school.

"Brenda," Nancy said politely.

"Oh, I thought maybe you and Ned were kissing and making up," Brenda said, her voice over-sweet. "I heard about the flowers."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Brenda," Nancy replied. "You remember Frank Hardy, don't you?"

"Of course. How silly of me to have mistaken you for Ned."

"Anyone can make a mistake," Frank agreed calmly. "I hope we're not keeping you from your date."

"Oh, I'm just here with some friends," she said, gesturing to a table halfway across the room.

"We're just about to be leaving," Nancy said, praying for the waiter to appear with their check. Even if Brenda left right now, she'd shattered the mood in the restaurant.

"Maybe we'll see you later," Brenda said.

"I doubt it," Nancy said flatly. As if in answer to her silent plea, the waiter came to the table, black leather folder extended for Frank to take. Nancy eased out of the booth, grateful to see him doing the same.

"Well, then, I insist you come say hi." Brenda reached out, snagged one of Nancy's hands. "Don't you want to introduce Frank to everyone?"

Nancy gave up. It was clear there was no getting out of this gracefully. "Why not?" she said with an apologetic glance at Frank.

---- ---- ---

They walked along the path that wound alongside the Muskoka River, hand in hand. The evening was cooling off a little, and Nancy didn't object when Frank wanted to go inside the small park at the heart of the River District. It wasn't a park in the sense of a children's play area, but more of a landscape garden.

"This is pretty, and private," Frank said, lips quirking slightly.

"Sorry about Brenda," she said. "She enjoys getting on my nerves. I definitely don't want her to know about this case. It would be like waving a red flag in front of her."

He nodded, catching sight of a bench swing hanging from a tree just off the path. "Do you want to sit down?"

She smiled at him. "I'd like that."

When they were seated, the swing in lazy motion, Nancy leaning her head against his shoulder, he decided to ask the question that had been bothering him for the last half-hour. "What did Brenda mean about thinking you and Ned were making up?"

Nancy sighed. "A few weeks ago – don't ask me how Brenda found out – Ned sent me two dozen longstemmed roses at work, and a card asking me on a date." Her voice was quiet, and she could feel him tensing up.

"I see."

"I thought they would be from you," she said. "I was so excited. I thought they were to make up for us missing spending the Fourth together."

He said nothing.

Nancy sat up straight, touched her hand to his cheek. "I ended up giving the flowers to Eleanor," she said, naming her father's office administrator. "Flowers couldn't fix what went wrong between us."

"What did go wrong?" he asked, voice serious.

Nancy sighed. "We were fighting a lot. He didn't like that I wanted to study criminal justice, that I wouldn't give up mysteries. He wanted me to be someone I wasn't."

"What did you want from him?"

She looked into his eyes. "I wanted him to share my passion. I wanted him to understand." She drew in a deep breath. "I wanted him to be you." She slid her arms around his neck and kissed him, feeling the kiss deepen as he pulled her closer.

The kiss ended, and Nancy studied him for a moment. She remembered sitting on the steps with him at the cabin, remembered the dark, intense look in his eyes just before Joe had interrupted them. That look was back now. "You asked what I was thinking, in the restaurant," she said slowly. "I never got to finish my answer."

"What were you going to say?" he asked, his voice a little rough, his arm still tight around her waist. Her hands still rested on his shoulders, and she was very aware of how close they were.

"That I don't want it to end," she whispered. "I'm in love with you, Frank."

"Good," he said as he leaned forward. "Because I'm in love with you." He kissed her, his hand sliding into the hair at the nape of her neck.

When they pulled away from each other, Nancy stood, smoothing her skirt. "We should probably be going, before we get into trouble."

"We could always watch a movie," he said with a slow smile. "Curl up on the couch…"

"If you think we're going to make out on the couch with your brother, your father, and my father in the house, you are sadly mistaken," Nancy said with a wry grin.

"It's not like your father has a shotgun," he said, smile widening. "I'd be willing to risk it."

She had to smile back as he took her in his arms. "We should be going," she said softly, just before he kissed her.

"We should," he said, taking her hand in his. "Lead the way."

---- ---- ----

Nancy frowned as she turned onto her street. "That's odd," she said softly.

"What?" Frank looked ahead, trying to see what she was looking at. Then he saw it – a dark red car, parked along the street in front of the Drews' house. "It's a little late for visitors, isn't it?" He glanced at his watch, seeing that it was almost ten.

"It's Chief McGinnis." Nancy would have recognized that car anywhere, as well as the tall man stepping out of the car. "What is he doing here?" She felt a chill along her spine. "You don't think there's something wrong, do you?"

"We're about to find out," Frank said quietly as Nancy parked.

---- ----- ----


	11. Chapter 10

DOUBLE JEOPARDY

By: desert_vixen

Author's Notes: The story's into the double-digit chapters now, but there isn't too much farther to go. Thanks to everyone who's been enjoying the story and commenting!

Chronological Note: The previous story, "Meet Me In Chicago", takes place in the middle of June, roughly. This one is set in the beginning of August. The general time frame for the stories is three years after the SuperMysteries, making the characters of legal drinking age.

I'd like to thank my fabulous beta Amy for keeping me from making silly mistakes in the story, and for helping me keep the plot from getting too crazy.

Also, disclaimer: I don't own any of the established ND/HB characters. And I'm in the Army, so suing wouldn't really be worth the money anyway…

---- ---- ----

Chapter 10

"Chief?" Chief McGinnis turned to see Nancy walking towards him, Frank Hardy next to her. He raised an eyebrow as he took in their outfits and joined hands, then smiled. They made an attractive couple, and he knew from experience that they were good partners in detection. It definitely looked as if they had decided to be partners on a personal level as well.

"Nancy. Frank." He greeted them warmly. "Enjoying a night out?"

"What happened?" Nancy kept her voice level. She was already starting to feel a little silly, since the chief obviously wasn't in a hurry. It was late at night for a social call, however, and she couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.

Russell McGinnis realized suddenly how his presence must look to them. "Nothing's wrong," he told her. "I dropped by to give Fenton – and you two – a copy of the police report. It's been a long day," he finished with a wry grin, as the three of them walked up to the house. "I planned to be here about three hours ago."

Nancy was reaching for her keys when the door opened. Joe was standing there, with a look of amusement on his face as he let out a low whistle. "Must have been one hell of a date," he said, earning himself a glare from both his brother and Nancy.

"Oh, shut up," Nancy hissed as she walked by him.

"Hey, usually it's Frank getting me out of trouble." He laughed. "I have to enjoy the role reversal when I can."

Fenton Hardy stepped into the hall from the living room. "Russ. We were starting to worry."

The two men shook hands. "You know how it goes – some days just don't seem to end," McGinnis told him. "I imagine it's worse when you own the agency."

Fenton nodded. "We're all in the living room."

---- ---- ----

Ten minutes later, Carson was giving McGinnis an incredulous look. "You didn't find anything?"

"Other than the unidentified fingerprint, no. It's not in any of the databases – but it's damn near perfect for evidence if we can find the guy." Russ McGinnis spread his hands. "You're not the only one who was hoping for more. I'm sorry, Carson."

Carson pinched the bridge of his nose. He had been hoping for…something. Anything. A name, an identification that would make this case a simple matter. Something that would make it easy to close, something that would let him sleep easier. "It's not your fault."

"We've also had surveillance on the apartment, but no luck there. Another day, and I'm going to need to pull that one. I can't afford to waste the manpower when there's been nothing interesting. We're keeping the surveillance on this house, of course, but that's a little easier to justify, given your history and the fact that Helena is staying here."

Carson nodded. "I know the department is doing what it can." Helena looked a little shocked for a moment, then shrugged.

"We appreciate you coming by so late, Russ," Laura said after a long moment. "Tell Merry hello for me?"

"Of course, Laura," McGinnis said as he stood. "I should get home before she starts worrying."

---- ---- ----

"Why don't we kick the case around some?" Nancy suggested, as the three of them stood in the hallway. "I'm not tired."

"See, if you'd been on a date with me, you would be," Joe teased.

Frank shook his head. Some things never changed, his brother's irrepressible sense of humor being one of them. "I'll get out the files."

"I'll grab something to snack on," Joe volunteered.

Nancy followed Frank into the den. She paused to get rid of the heeled sandals she still wore, feeling her bare feet sink into the carpet with relief.

Frank set the file box down, then leaned back against the desk to remove his tie. "Do we know how to end a date, or what?"

She shook her head and smiled. "Sorry to kill the mood."

"I think we can thank the chief for that one," Frank replied.

Nancy watched him unfasten the top button of his shirt, part of her wishing that they didn't have a case demanding their attention. She had enjoyed the companionable silence of the drive home, wondering what would happen now. They had taken a pretty serious step – before, when they'd crossed over the lines they had drawn for themselves, they had only admitted to caring about each other, to feeling…something. She wished now that they had stayed in the garden, just a little longer – long enough to avoid meeting Chief McGinnis like they had.

The case wouldn't go away until they had solved it, though – leaving this one open was not an option.

"Where is he getting the snacks from?" Frank muttered.

Nancy walked over, slid her arms around his neck. "Do you really care?" she whispered, just before she kissed him. He put an arm around her waist, pulling her against him, and she tightened her hand on the back of his neck as the kiss deepened, lengthened, until she wasn't thinking about the case…

Joe stood in the doorway for a moment, watching the two of them. He was reluctant to intrude on the moment, since he did that by accident enough – no sense in doing it on purpose. He waited until she pulled away, said something too soft for him to hear, but that made his brother flash a warm smile at her.

"I thought about popcorn, but went with chips and salsa," Joe said as he walked into the room, watching the two of them try to look as if they hadn't been trying to devour each other. "And something to drink."

"Good call," Frank said. "The last time we had popcorn while we worked, Dad was getting on you about buttery fingerprints."

The three of them laughed, and Nancy started lifting folders out of the box.

"I'm feeling a little underdressed," Joe joked, gesturing down at his jeans and t-shirt. "You two look like Detective GQ or something."

"Let's review," Frank said as they sat down. "We have someone crazy enough to stalk your dad for eighteen years for some as-yet-unknown reason. The picture plays some significant role. According to Chief McGinnis, it's not someone who's in the system."

"The question is, what set this guy off? Was it really just the picture?" Joe asked.

"Assuming it's the same guy from eighteen years ago," Nancy began, and they nodded. "What set him off again? What set him off the first time?" She had the file folder of threatening notes in her lap, reading through them as she listened to the brothers debate the slim evidence they had. As near as Nancy could tell, the only thing that the two situations had in common was Carson. Her mother and Helena weren't the same physical type, didn't have similar jobs or interests, and weren't in similar roles. She was lost in thought, unconsciously biting her lower lip.

"We're not getting anywhere," Joe said in annoyance. "There's something here that would make this clear, and we just aren't seeing it."

Frank glanced over, and saw Nancy biting her lower lip, her eyes focused on something only she could see. He knew that look – she had hit on something.

"What if we're coming at this from the wrong angle?" Nancy said suddenly. "What if the threat isn't form a case Dad won? What if it's a case the prosecution lost?"

There was total silence for a moment.

"Look at this note," she said after shuffling through the papers. "Maybe after you've lost what was stolen from me, you'll feel my pain," Nancy read aloud. "Not 'what you stole', but 'what was stolen'. What if it's a husband or boyfriend of a victim? That would…"

"Explain a lot," Frank said excitedly. "Like why the picture sets him off. Seeing the guy who didn't win for him enjoying the woman in his life."

"Do you two have to do that?" Joe complained. "It gets a little creepy."

"Can't help it if great minds think alike," Nancy said with a grin. "It would also explain why the fingerprints aren't in one of the databases. If he's not a criminal, he may never have been fingerprinted."

"It's an angle we haven't tried yet," Joe said with a grin. "Now who wants to tell Dad?"

"We're going to have to start some of the research all over again," Frank said, almost to himself, thinking of the job that was going to be.

Nancy looked at the clock, surprised to see almost two hours had gone by. How long had she been lost in thought, she wondered?

"Let's call it a night," Joe suggested. "We can corner Dad over breakfast."

"Sounds like a plan," Frank agreed, but made no move to get out of his chair. Joe looked from him, to Nancy, then at the ceiling.

"So, I'll just clean up the snack stuff and I'll see you two in the morning," he said. When he left the room, he made a point of closing the door to the den.

Nancy giggled. "You do a pretty good 'stern look' there," she teased.

"With Joe, I get lots of practice," Frank muttered. He got out of the chair, and crossed over to the couch. "Care to join me?"

Nancy stood, killing the main light switch. Only the moonlight from outside, and the light from the lamp near the door, filled the room, making it cozy and intimate. She sat next to him on the couch, leaning against him as he draped an arm around her shoulders.

"How long have you been in love with me?" he asked after a long moment.

"Maybe we always were and just didn't know what to call it," she said softly. "All those times we stepped back from the line we'd drawn, only to keep stepping up to them again."

"Maybe," he agreed.

"It just felt right to say it now," she said, linking her fingers with his. "What about you?"

"When I walked into the back yard and saw you sitting in that tire swing," he said quietly, then kissed her. "It does feel right, being here with you."

Her hand tightened around his. "I tried not having you in my life. It didn't work."

"Don't worry," he said, looking into her eyes. "I plan to stay." He traced the line of her lower lip, then kissed her. She knew she'd be dreaming about this tonight.

---- ---- ----


	12. Chapter 11

DOUBLE JEOPARDY

By: desert_vixen

Author's Notes: I know it has been too long since I updated this story, but the whole real life thing really gets in the way of fanfic. I'll try not to keep you dangling from the cliff's edge too long next time!

Chronological Note: The previous story, "Meet Me In Chicago", takes place in the middle of June, roughly. This one is set in the beginning of August. The general time frame for the stories is three years after the SuperMysteries, making the characters of legal drinking age.

I'd like to thank my fabulous beta Amy for keeping me from making silly mistakes in the story, and for helping me keep the plot from getting too crazy.

Also, disclaimer: I don't own any of the established ND/HB characters. And I'm in the Army, so suing wouldn't really be worth the money anyway…

LAST TIME ON DOUBLE JEOPARDY: Frank, Nancy, and Joe work on the case and toss out a new angle, after Frank and Nancy exchange the "L" word and get escorted to the door by Chief McGinniss…

Chapter 11

The atmosphere in the house was getting to be a little too tense for Laura Hardy's taste. Carson was barely speaking to anyone, and she was starting to entertain a private fantasy of spiking his coffee with some sort of sedative, if only because he looked like he desperately needed sleep. It wasn't the first time she had seen Carson drive himself to the point of exhaustion, but in this case, there was nothing that he could do to affect the outcome. Fenton, in turn, was feeling the pressure of the unsolved cases – not just the fact that they were unsolved, but that they were so personal. There was no getting around the personal stake they all had in this case. Helena was taking the threats against her fairly well, but Laura knew she was feeling the tension too – there was no way she could miss it.

Laura was somewhat relieved when she walked into the dining room, and found the four detectives gathered around the table. She was less than pleased to find her husband and sons still in workout clothes, breaking one of the rules she strictly enforced at home. Fenton looked like he was in a better mood than he had been earlier this morning, however, so she wasn't inclined to make a big deal out of it.

"Nancy came up with a new idea last night while we were kicking the case around," Frank said as he took an orange out of the fruit bowl.

"I'm open to new ideas," Fenton said.

"Well," Nancy began, setting down the yogurt she had been eating before they returned, "we started looking at the time issue last night, and wondering why there's such a big gap between the cases. The other problem is the fact that the fingerprints on scene aren't on file anywhere. So I started wondering – what if the connection isn't a case Dad won? What if it's a case where he lost, back when he was a prosecutor? Something similar to this?"

Laura could see her husband starting to turn the idea over. "It could work…"

"I know pretty much all of the threats Dad's received have been from him doing the job too well, but this idea would account for several things – the way the notes are worded, the huge gap between cases, and if we go with the theory that this person is trying to punish Dad for losing the case, it explains why the focus is on Helena. He could be trying to punish Dad for being happy when he isn't."

"I know it means pretty much starting over on the research angle," Frank said.

"We're not getting anywhere with the current angle," Fenton admitted. "Everything we try keeps hitting a dead end. I'll contact a source of mine in Chicago, see what I can get for you and Nancy to dig through. Joe can stick with any bodyguard type duties that come up, and I'll keep pushing on Carson's list of successes, just in case the new theory doesn't go anywhere."

Fenton had been able to get them access to casefiles from the appropriate time period through his contacts in the District Attorney's office, and Nancy was silently grateful to the interns who had spent an entire summer making old case files available in a digital format. After some discussion, the four of them had come up with starting parameters: homicide involving a woman with a male partner not responsible for the death, an unknown assailant, with the court portion of the case happening three to six months before Cecily Drew's death.

They had been in the den, plowing through files for almost four hours when they found the Jamison casefile. Nancy felt a jolt of excitement as she read over Frank's shoulder – they'd found a few possible so far, but some instinct told her this was the one. She knew the Hardys would scoff at "feminine intuition", but there was no denying that sometimes it was right. There had been a few clues that they would have missed without her help in the past, like the cruise ship thief who had written them a note on a mirror in eyeliner pencil.

It was the involvement of the car, she supposed, that had her leaning towards it. The victim had been found in an abandoned stolen car two days after her disappearance, her body placed in the trunk. Lacey Jamison had been a salesgirl in a department store, likely grabbed in the parking garage where her own car had been found. She had been strangled, likely drugged when she was taken. There had been a suspect initially, a guy who had been not-quite-stalking Lacey, but the charges had been dropped due to not enough proof. There had been no conclusive physical evidence on the scene, and no witnesses to anything related to the crime. Carson Drew had been the prosecutor who had been initially assigned to the case, and who had signed off on dropping the charges. With no leads, the case had ended up on the books as an unsolved homicide.

Five years later, a convicted murderer in Indiana had confessed to the crime, but it had been deemed unconvincing as the guy had been implying he had info on pretty much any unsolved murder in an attempt to delay his date with capital punishment. Lacey had been engaged to Jason Greenfield, a photographer. Nancy tightened her hand on Frank's shoulder as the name tickled her memory.

"There's something about that name – I've seen it before." Nancy frowned.

"Let me consult the oracle," he said with a grin, opening up a search window. "Have I mentioned lately how much I love the Internet?"

Nancy shook her head, and moved to the table where they had the current casefile spread out. Computers could come in handy, but a part of her preferred the old-fashioned method. The name wasn't an exotic one, but she knew it from somewhere. Inspiration hit her, and she shuffled through the papers as she listened to his fingers tapping on the keyboard.

He spun around in the chair to face her, after a few minutes. "According to the website, he's a photographer for the _River Heights Times_, has been for the last five years."

"More than that," Nancy said, as she picked up the clipping of Carson and Helena from the _Times_. "He took this picture."

They spent a few minutes organizing the information, intending to find Fenton and lay out what they had found. The raised voices coming from the living room interrupted them, breaking the stillness inside the house. It was rare for her father to raise his voice in anger, but it was raised now.

"Carson, calm down." Frank recognized his father's tone. It was the one he employed with clients who were getting overly emotional.

"Calm down? You haven't done anything of use, and you want me to calm down? He's close enough to take more pictures, and you want me to calm down?"

_More pictures._ Nancy felt a little sick. No wonder her father was upset. This case was making everyone a little crazy. She missed whatever Fenton said in response, but her father's next words came in loud and clear. They made the sickness intensify.

"Maybe if two of the detectives would spend more time concentrating on the case, and less time on each other, we'd be getting somewhere."

She knew her father was under a lot of stress right now, but she would never have believed she would hear him accuse her of not working hard enough, of fooling around. She could feel Frank's hand on her shoulder, knowing it was meant to be a comforting gesture, but in light of what her father was saying, it made her uncomfortable. He said nothing when she shook it off, but then they got a bigger shock when Laura's voice cut across the argument.

"What is the matter with you two?" Her voice was sharp, loud, and frustrated. "Have you lost it?"

Frank couldn't hear either of the men, but he could imagine the looks on their faces. His mother rarely lost her temper, but when she did, it could be a little scary.

"Carson, you need to get some sleep, or get out of the house, or something. I know you're frustrated, but they're working on it. You're not helping. Fenton, you know he's under a lot of stress."

When it was quiet, when they had heard someone storm out, Frank and Nancy went into the living room. Fenton Hardy stood by the window, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if it would help with the stress.

"Dad? What's going on?"

Fenton Hardy gestured at the opened envelope on the coffee table. "There's been another set of pictures."

Nancy picked up the envelope, pulled out the pictures without saying anything. She could see why her father had been so upset. The original clipping of Helena and Carson was there, as fit the pattern, along with a pair of much more recent shots – one of Helena standing by the front door, about to open it, and another that captured her outside her apartment. Nancy recognized the outfit Helena had worn the day before in the front-door photo, and she was pretty sure the picture outside Helena's apartment was from the day they discovered the break-in.

"Tell me you two found something," Fenton said wearily. "We could use some good news right about now."


	13. Chapter 12

DOUBLE JEOPARDY

By: desert_vixen

Author's Notes: I know it has been way past too long since I updated this story, but the whole real life thing really gets in the way of fanfic. I'll try not to keep you dangling from the cliff's edge so long next time! I'm trying to get this story wrapped up soon, I promise.

Chronological Note: The previous story, "Meet Me In Chicago", takes place in the middle of June, roughly. This one is set in the beginning of August. The general time frame for the stories is three years after the SuperMysteries, making the characters of legal drinking age.

I'd like to thank my fabulous beta Amy for keeping me from making silly mistakes in the story, and for helping me keep the plot from getting too crazy.

Also, disclaimer: I don't own any of the established ND/HB characters. And I'm in the Army, so suing wouldn't really be worth the money anyway…

LAST TIME ON DOUBLE JEOPARDY: The new angle brought some interesting results, and the tensions are rising in the Drew household…

...

While Frank and Nancy had been digging through eighteen-year-old files on unsolved murders, Joe had found himself roped into going with Hannah on errands. It was unlikely that the Drews' housekeeper would be targeted, given their mystery man's focus on Helena, but there was no point in taking the chance. Joe didn't think he could take five more minutes of paperwork, even though he did think Nancy's idea was worth following up. They had not exactly been racking up the successes with their previous approach, so the only thing they had to lose was time, and possibly sanity. Joe figured he would been drafted for carrying in bags anyway, and this way he could make sure all his favorite snack foods ended up in those bags.

When they had returned, and he'd carried in what felt like half a grocery store, Joe went to go check in with the other two. He half expected to find them still buried in files, and was surprised to find Frank in the den by himself.

"Where's Nancy?" Then he saw the look on his older brother's face, and sighed. "What now?"

"More pictures. Dad and Carson had an argument – a big one – and Carson basically accused me and Nancy of being too busy thinking with our hormones to catch this creep."

"Are we making any progress?"

Frank's smile was grim. "Nancy and I found someone with a very interesting past – and present," he replied, and filled Joe in on Jason Greenfield. When he had finished, Joe let out a low whistle.

"So a photographer with a mysterious dead fiancée and a very possible grudge against Carson Drew moves to River Heights. Even better, he's the photographer who's taken pictures of Carson Drew with both women, so even if he wasn't a suspect, we'd want to have a little chat with him. Sounds pretty suspicious to me."

"Especially since no one's seen him for a day or two," Frank said. "Dad contacted Chief McGinnis about him."

"Should I cancel my dinner date with Bess then?" Joe hoped not, but he could see the tight line of his brother's mouth and knew it was a sensitive subject. "You and Nancy went out, remember?"

He remembered, and sighed. "I know. Talk to Dad."

...

He wished the storm would break. The weather had turned from warm and pleasant to humid and stuffy, mirroring the increasingly tense atmosphere in the Drew home. Joe was glad to escape for the evening. He was looking forward to Bess's uncomplicated company.

Joe had missed the actual argument between his father and Carson Drew, but the aftermath was making everyone edgy. Nancy had holed up in the den, refusing all efforts to get her to come out – even Frank's. Helena and his mother had been watching a movie when he had left, both making a determined attempt to maintain an atmosphere of normality. Frank had joined them, pretending to be working on his laptop, but somehow Joe doubted that much was getting accomplished from the way he kept catching his older brother staring off into space. Neither Carson nor Fenton had put in an appearance lately, and that was probably for the best.

"I was thinking we could drive over to Mapleton," Bess said once she had picked him up. "Grab some dinner at the mall, maybe see a movie…"

"And maybe look into one or two stores?" Joe asked teasingly.

"Maybe. Unless it's going to take extra-hard arm-twisting." She smiled at him. "Are you up for it?"

He thought that he would have sat through a double-feature historical chick flick as long as it meant he was out of the house for a few hours.

She waited until they were seated in a corner booth in the sandwich shop, their orders in front of them – a Chinese chicken salad wrap for herself, a gigantic bacon cheeseburger for Joe – before asking the question that was on her mind. "What's wrong?"

He deliberately took another bite, buying himself some time. The people who thought Bess was a stupid blonde greatly underestimated her. She understood people, what made them work, and what made them do the things they did. It also made her good at spotting when someone close to her was not telling the truth. "What do you mean?"

"You haven't said a single word about the progress you're making," she said quietly. "That means there is a problem. How is it going?"

He shrugged. It wasn't that things were spiraling horribly out of control. If they hadn't all been inside the case, he would have been fairly optimistic. They had identified a likely perpetrator, had a definite focus for the investigation, protection as needed, and they had a fairly solid grasp on the case. However, they were inside it, living intimately with the stress of the investigation, and it was affecting people. It was making him antsy.

"It could be better," he said after a moment. "But it's moving along. Nancy had one of her brainstorms last night when we were kicking the case around."

"Didn't they have a date last night?" Bess shook her head, momentarily distracted from her question.

Joe grinned at her – one of the reasons they got along so well was that they often thought along the same lines. They were the flirts, the charmers, the comic relief when things got too serious, and neither of them backed down easily. "Well, after Chief McGinnis brought them home…"

He laughed as Bess looked at him, eyes wide, before they narrowed in suspicion. "Joe…" Her tone was stern for a whole minute before she gave in to the laughter.

When he had explained everything – Nancy's insight and Carson Drew's reaction, including the fight with Fenton Hardy – Bess shook her head. "Poor Nancy. How is she holding up?"

He thought about the tension between his brother and his friend, tension that hadn't been there last night. "She's holding up, but we need to close this thing."

Bess looked as if she wanted to ask more, but she shifted the conversation to telling him about her day, light anecdotes that were more entertaining than when they had actually been happening.

After a quick perusal of the display outside the theater, they had decided to skip the movie. Joe didn't mind shopping trips very much, since he did have an interest in clothes. The mall was relatively new and airy, the dying sunlight of the day competing with the artificial lights, and her company was helping him forget about the tension for awhile. Window shopping was fun, especially since his companion wore a stylishly short summer dress in pale pink. Bess might complain about trying to lose a few extra pounds, and she wasn't the serious athlete that her cousin George was, but Joe was of the opinion that the extra pounds were in exactly the right places.

As a result of her company, he was in a much better frame of mind when it happened. They were standing in front of Lady Foot Locker, discussing George's upcoming birthday and the need for a gift, when they were interrupted.

"Bess! I haven't seen you in forever."

She turned, saw Ned Nickerson standing there. "It has been a long time, Ned."

He reached out, touched the ends of her hair. "When did you do this?"

"Oh, awhile ago." She gave Ned a little hug. "How are you?"

"Staying busy, working." He realized after a moment that she wasn't alone, and Bess could see on his face when he recognized who was standing next to her. "I didn't realize you had company, sorry."

"You know Joe, of course." Bess kept her tone even. "They're visiting River Heights."

Joe offered his hand, and after a slight hesitation, Ned took it. "It's been a few years."

"So it has," Joe agreed. The last time the brothers had been in River Heights, they had been pursuing a case. Back then, Nancy and Ned had still been an item, and Ned hadn't been too thrilled to see them show up.

Formalities over, Ned turned back to Bess. "Well, I don't want to hold you two up. Say hi to Nancy for me, will you?"

"Too bad she and Frank couldn't make it a double date," Joe said, watching Ned's spine stiffen, but the other man said nothing, just gave Bess a friendly hug before moving on.

Bess turned on him as soon as Ned was out of earshot. "That was uncalled for, Hardy," she said sharply. "He isn't a bad guy, just not right for Nancy."

"I can't help not liking him," Joe said, a little taken aback at Bess's defense of the guy who had dumped one of her two best friends. "It might have something to do with looking at my brother like he wouldn't mind him disappearing off the face of the planet."

"He's been part of our lives for a long time. I still consider him a friend," Bess said, her tone chilly. "I don't like my friends to be rude to other friends."

They walked along in silence for a few minutes before he sighed. "I'm sorry. I should have kept my mouth shut."

She turned to look at him. "Yes, you should have." It was another moment or two before her face softened. "Apology accepted."

...

_She knew him, thought she would know him anywhere, just the way he stood, the line of his shoulders. _

"_Frank." She called his name, then felt a shock as he turned. It wasn't Frank. It was Fenton Hardy, younger than she could remember him. Nancy looked around her and recognized the scene – not from anywhere she had been, but from photographs. It was the scene of her mother's death. Against her will, her eyes were drawn to the car where her mother's body was slumped in the passenger seat, reddish blonde hair shielding her face._

"_You have to find out what we missed," Fenton said softly, standing beside her._

"_We think we did," she said. "We just have to find him."_

_He regarded her gravely. "It's not over yet," Fenton said, and walked away from her, walked towards the car, towards her mother. She watched as he examined the body, the car, the scene. She thought she heard him say softly, "I'm sorry"._

_In another moment, she stood at her mother's grave, and looked into her mother's eyes. Cecily Drew stood there, dressed in pale gray. Her face was bruised and cut, like Nancy imagined it must have been in real life – or death. Her expression was gentle and knowing as she looked at her daughter. Nancy looked down in confusion – the grave was open at her feet, an empty dark hole that scarred the soft green grass. She realized a second later that it wasn't empty, that there was a gleaming dark casket at the bottom, lid closed. She saw as well now that the headstone was different, wrong. Instead of her mother's name, Helena Radecki was inscribed, the letters new and sharp against the dark gray stone._

_She knew, somehow, that she dreamed, but she felt a cold shiver along her spine as her mother spoke to her. "You have to stop it. He can't take it again."_

"_I'm trying." She could hear uncertainty in her own voice. "We're getting closer."_

"_He needs her." There was no jealousy or bitterness in that voice, just gentleness. "Don't let him down."_

_She wanted to protest that she was doing her best, that they were all doing their best. "I won't. I promise."_

"_Don't be too hard on him," Cecily said after a moment. "He loves you. And I love you."_

_She went to step around the headstone, went to throw herself into her mother's arms… _

… And woke up, her mother's voice still in her ears as she sat up in bed, fighting off disorientation. She was surprised to feel tears on her cheeks. A glance at the clock told her it was after one in the morning.

Fifteen minutes later, she gave up sleep as a lost cause, and crept downstairs. She wouldn't let her father down – or her mother.

...

He couldn't sleep. The tense atmosphere in the house had killed any attempts at trying to be social, but it hadn't made falling asleep any easier. He had tried reading, but he couldn't really concentrate on what he was reading, nor was it making him sleepy. Finally, Frank gave up, threw a t-shirt on over the running shorts he'd worn to bed, and went downstairs.

It was a habit of his to prowl the house when he couldn't sleep. Growing up in a household with Fenton Hardy had made him just slightly paranoid about locks and alarms, and sometimes checking all of them was enough to help him relax. The Drews' house was familiar, if not as familiar as the house he had grown up in, and he didn't find anything out of place – until he came to the den and spotted a faint glow, the door slightly open.

He was pretty sure their current prime suspect would not have broken in to paw through their files, much less been able to defeat the alarm system, but he still moved cautiously to the door and pushed it gently to look inside. The lamp on the desk was turned on, but no other lights. She was standing in front of the window, staring out into the dark, arms crossed over her chest, her shoulders slumped. He stepped into the den, closed the door gently behind him. "Nancy?"

She turned her head to look at him. "Frank."

"What are you doing down here?"

"I couldn't sleep." She turned away from the window, flipped her ponytail over her shoulder.

"Join the club," he said softly, trying to get a smile out of her. They all needed one. The last couple days had not been good for anyone.

"I had a… weird dream about my mother, couldn't fall back asleep after it. I thought I would see if maybe there's something we're missing." She didn't want to explain it, didn't know if she could really explain it.

"Find anything?"

She shook her head. "I didn't really expect to, but it beat laying there in the dark thinking about everything that is going on."

He looked at the lacy blue camisole and blue-and-white flowered pajama pants she wore, and thought that he would be willing to help her take her mind off what was going on, laying down in the dark or not. It was the middle of the night, and they were the only two awake in the house.

"The whole thing with Dad is what's driving me crazy," Nancy continued. "I try not to, but the thought keeps sneaking in that if this guy wasn't threatening Helena, this case wouldn't exist. He would have kept me in the dark about it forever. Then, what he said today, it really hurt."

"I'm sure he'll apologize when he's thinking straight," he said quietly.

She nodded. "Probably."

"I could help you take your mind off that," he offered in a low voice.

"Good." She gave him a slow smile. "Because I don't want to think about it any more tonight."

She switched off the desk lamp, and walked over to him in the dark, reached up to slide her arms around his neck, and let him help her not think about it.

They had settled in one of the comfy chairs, a decision which required her to sit on his lap. Neither of them had a complaint about this, and Nancy let herself relax and not think, just enjoy.

Until she looked out the window behind them, and saw the shadow slipping around the side of the house.

"Frank." She said his name once, then more sharply as she realized it had not made an impact.

His lips stilled on the side of her neck. "Mmmm?"

The sound of his voice, all warm and soft and distracted, made her wish she hadn't seen that shadow. "There's someone outside."

He straightened up so fast she almost fell to the floor. "Are you sure?"

"Going around the corner." She stood so he could get out of the chair.

"Let's go introduce ourselves, shall we?"

They paused in the front hall long enough for Nancy to grab a hooded sweatshirt, and then they were outside in the still-stifling night air. By unspoken agreement, they split up, heading in different directions around the house. Nancy wondered about the patrolman who was supposed to be watching the Drew house – she'd seen no sign of him or a police vehicle.

The trespasser – Nancy couldn't tell in the dark if it was Jason Greenfield or not – was trying to get into the back yard. He carried a large black bag that she thought might be camera equipment, but she couldn't be sure.

She was trying to decide if she could retreat, grab Frank for some backup, when the trespasser turned and saw her. The black bag dropped with a heavy thud as he took off, and Nancy chased after him.

"Frank!"

He turned as he heard Nancy's yell, recognizing it not as a cry for help, but a call for assistance, and turned to run. Frank had cleared the front of the house, when he heard the front door bang open. He glanced behind him, saw his younger brother charge out, although he hadn't bothered with a t-shirt.

They saw Nancy near the street, breathing hard as she knelt in the grass, and beyond that, the shadowy figure getting into some sort of sports-utility vehicle.

"Too fast for me," she said in between gulps of air. "Pretty fast for a guy his age."

The light over the license plate was out, making it impossible to make out the letters. Nancy wanted to scream with frustration. They'd been so close, and missed.

"What the hell's going on out here?" The three of them turned, saw their fathers standing there in the doorway.

"Are you okay?" Frank offered Nancy a hand.

She nodded. "Just out of breath." She stood, didn't let go of his hand. "He got away. He was right here and we let him get away."

He tightened his hand around hers. "He won't next time."


End file.
